What Doors May Open
by K'sChoiceofAFI
Summary: AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:**What Doors May Open

**Pairing:**Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating:**PG-13

**Disclaimer:**I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary:**AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

**A/N:**This is a little project that made me write it, honestly. I tried to resist because I hate having more than one chapter fic going at a time because I never want one to be neglected over the other, but this wouldn't get out of my head. However, this fic will be much shorter (hopefully) and _much_ more lighthearted than **Ensnared** (this chapter notwithstanding), so hopefully I will be able to do both at the same time. And to those waiting on the update for **Ensnared**, I promise I'll update as soon as I can. :)

**A/N:**This is an AU fic that takes place sophomore year. Quinn was never pregnant.

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><p><em>Prologue<em>

"So, you're gay?"

Rachel's eyes clenched shut with a tight nod.

Finn scratched at the five o'clock shadow on his face that was beginning to irritate his skin. "Have you always been gay, or…"

A tear slid down Rachel's cheek at the question. Two strong arms wrapped around her waist and she collapsed against Finn with a choked sob. "Hey, it's okay, you know? It's—yeah, no—that's fine."

"It's _not_ okay," Rachel sobbed into his shirt. She clutched a scrap of flannel into her hand and held tightly as tears streamed down her face. There was a niggling thought in the back of her mind that kept reminding her how selfish she was being. Here she was, breaking up with Finn and adding insult to injury by telling him she had been gay the entire time they were together. And instead of comforting Finn on the whole issue, Finn was comforting _her_. With that thought causing bile and guilt to churn inside of her, Rachel pulled back, wiping at her tears as she sat straighter on the bed.

"I'm sorry, Finn," she mumbled as she wiped at her eyes. "I shouldn't be the one crying and throwing a pity party, it's just—"

"Hey, look, I get it." He rubbed the palms of his hands down the front of his jeans. "Umm, being gay isn't easy or whatever. It's cool, really."

Rachel huffed out a laugh because his statement sounded more patronizing than sympathizing even though she knew he didn't mean it that way. "Thank you, Finn."

He nodded, giving her a thumbs up with a cheesy grin. This time she _did_ laugh and it kind of hurt because for all of his flaws, Finn Hudson was a great guy that would make some woman happy some day.

"So, what now?" Finn asked, leaning back on his hands on her bed.

Rachel took her bottom lip between her teeth in uncertainty. "I don't really know."

"I mean, are you like, gonna come out or something?"

"Goodness, no!" She nearly had a heart attack at the mere thought. "I'm already an outcast at school; I can't have anyone there knowing that I'm a lesbian." Her wide gaze rounded on him. "And you can't tell anyone, Finn, promise me."

"Yeah—no, definitely. I won't."

She nodded and turned back around to stare at her yellow bedroom walls. Her hands fidgeted nervously in her lap and she clasped them together, squeezing them between her clenched thighs in an attempt to stop the nervous tick.

Finn rubbed a hand through his hair and shifted on her bed to ask, "Have you ever kissed a girl?"

Rachel ducked her head with a sheepish blush. "I have not."

"Well, then how do you know you're gay?" His face scrunched up. "Wait—you didn't like, make out with me and then decide—I didn't turn you gay, did I?"

Rachel pressed a hand to her mouth and giggled, shaking her head. "No, Finn. People don't _turn_ gay—we're born that way."

He hummed in approval of her answer and the fact that nothing he did made her gay because, ouch. No man needs that. He turned towards her. "Have you ever thought about it, you know, kissing a girl?"

Her eyes widened comically as she looked up at Finn. "I'm not—I don't…really know how to answer that question."

The corners of his mouth lifted into an amused grin. "It's a yes or no, Rachel."

"Well, I suppose I've at least entertained the thought once or twice." Her hands had somehow pried themselves from where they were wedged to start fidgeting again as she looked nearly anywhere but at Finn.

"Who was the girl?" he asked curiously.

She tugged on the edge of her skirt. "It's no one, really."

Finn turned towards her eagerly. "Can I guess?"

It was a dangerous game to play and Rachel couldn't help but shoot up from her seat. "It's probably best that we don't, Finn." She walked aimlessly around her room, coming to stand in front of her desk.

Finn stood up as well, hesitantly walking towards her. Her hair had fallen along her shoulder to shield her face from his gaze and he stood just a few feet away, not liking that he couldn't see her face. "Hey, if you're uncomfortable, I'm sorry."

"No, that's hardly the problem." She smoothed her hair behind her ear and Finn breathed easier when he could see her profile.

"Is it someone I know?" he asked tentatively.

Rachel sighed, bracing her hands on the desk. "Yes, Finn."

Finn took a step closer. "Is it Tina? 'Cause I know you two are kinda close and everything, 'cause she's like, your only friend or whatever. And, I mean, I remember you telling me how she sang _I__ Kissed __a__ Girl_ as her audition song for Glee, so—"

"It's not Tina," Rachel said carefully.

"Mercedes?"

She shook her head.

Finn frowned. "We don't have any other girls in glee club."

"We have—" she took a deep breath. "We have exactly three former glee club members as of now."

"But, that would—those are—" Finn's eyebrows shot up along his forehead. "Those would be Cheerios."

Rachel's hand trembled as she tried to nonchalantly pick up the pen on her desk. "That's correct."

"That would be either…Quinn, Santana, or Brittany."

She licked her lips nervously. "Uh huh," was all she could manage, voiced pitched precariously high because he was so close to hitting the nail on the head and Rachel felt she would faint if/when he finally did.

Finn jammed his hands into his pockets, looking all around the room before his gaze landed back on Rachel. "Was it Brittany?"

"It was not."

He didn't say anything for a long time. And for a while Rachel thought, hoped, wished he would stop because neither of them were ready to go where this conversation was going. She had already dropped one huge bombshell on him today, he didn't need another and she wasn't ready for another.

"Was…was it Santana?" he asked, practically begged and Rachel's eyes clenched shut because it wasn't her and she whined internally at having to answer the question.

"Finn, we really don't need to do this," she assured as she backed away from her desk to look up at him. She forced a wide smile and clasped her hands in front of her as if to show she had nothing to hide. "It's silly anyway. They were just little, frivolous thoughts that didn't mean anything then and don't mean anything no—"

"Was it Quinn?"

Her sentence ended with a strained, garbled sound of surprise at his audacity to more or less _know_ the answer, yet ask anyway. She nodded faintly, just once.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

**A/N: **Thank you for the reviews last chapter! I had no idea I'd be getting that much love for such a short prologue, so thank you again.

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><p>Finn threw his hands up in frustration. "Are you kidding me, Rachel?" he asked the ceiling he was staring at. He brought is hands to his face, roughly running them down his skin. "My ex-girlfriend, Rachel?"<p>

Rachel's mouth opened and closed as she flailed for a response. "They were just fleeting thoughts, Finn; that's all."

"Not really seeing how that makes it any better." He couldn't seem to stand still and paced around the room, his large feet sounding like he was stomping and throwing a tantrum. "Oh my—come on!"

"I'm sorry, Finn," Rachel mumbled as she watched him pace back and forth.

"What the fu—"

"There's really no need for that kind of language," she couldn't help but admonish.

Finn narrowed his eyes at her as he continued to pace. "You know, you're my girlfr—_ex_-girlfriend." His eyebrows pinched together in sadness for a brief moment before it was gone. "You literally _just_ broke up with me."

"I know," she mumbled, walking over to the bed and sitting down. She couldn't seem to keep still now that her biggest secret had been revealed and was now talked about like an elephant in the room that just fucking exploded.

"And now-now you think about kissing my _other _ex-girlfriend." He pointed a finger at her. "If you were a guy, you'd totally be breaking the guy code right now."

She nodded.

"I mean, that's-that's Quinn—you _do_ know you said Quinn Fabray, right?"

A humorless laugh bubbled in her throat and she cleared it to stomp it down. She was well aware who her mind had foolishly chosen to have those thoughts about. "Finn, please don't be upset."

Finn turned to look at her incredulously. "You have fantasized—"

"That's a _very_ strong word—"

"—about kissing _my_ ex-girlfriend." His face balled up. "My ex-girlfriend fantasizes about my ex-girlfriend. This is like, some horror story they tell over a campfire at night or something."

Rachel's lips turned down in a guilty frown. "It was a one…maybe two or three time thing." She winced at her own words. "And it was miniscule, nothing. I-I mean, I just thought about it because-because—"

"Because she's fucking hot. That's because."

Her frown deepened at his choice of words but she was wise enough not to agree.

Finn finally stopped pacing and stood just to her right, staring down at the floor. "She's not gay, Rach," he said quietly.

"I know," Rachel muttered, trying not to sound disappointed. "I know."

He instantly picked up on her tone of voice. "You want her to be?"

Rachel looked up at him in shock. "I—_what_? No! No, I don't want Quinn to be gay."

"Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no," Finn muttered as he started pacing again, hands clasped to the side of his face in his best _Home Alone_ Macaulay Culkin impersonation. This was feeling like an iceberg. The more he chipped away, the more there was just under the surface and he was starting not to like what this was turning into. "Rachel, I don't know how I'm supposed to be okay with this."

Her head dropped at the comment, suddenly feeling like telling Finn she was gay was a bad idea. Tears welled in her eyes as she clenched them shut. "I understand, Finn."

"Hey, no; don't cry." He kneeled in front of her and wiped the tear he saw from her eye.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed.

"Are you apologizing for being gay or for having a crush on Quinn?"

"Both." She wiped furiously at her eyes until Finn grabbed her hands and held them in his own.

Finn cringed at her inadvertent admittance of having a crush on his ex-girlfriend. "No, don't apologize for being gay. I mean, it's a lot to take in along with the whole Quinn thing but—can't you talk to your fathers or something? I'm never really good with handling your crying and maybe since they're gay too, you guys can bond or whatever."

Rachel nodded as she stared morosely at the floor. Finn lifted to slide onto the bed and pull her against him in a hug. "You're okay," he told her over and over again until she finally relaxed against him.

"You're okay."

* * *

><p>The sleep Rachel had Saturday night was well deserved and when she woke up Sunday when her six o'clock alarm went off, she felt like she had been steam rolled. She fumbled at her nightstand for the clock, turned it off and went back to sleep for several more hours.<p>

When she awoke at ten and felt less like road kill and more like she just really needed a hug, she crawled out of bed and took a shower.

An hour later found her walking down the stairs. She saw Hiram in the living room and, thinking he was a good candidate, sat on the couch with him.

"Everything all right, sweetheart?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her small frame and tugging her closer. "You woke up later than usual."

Rachel snuggled deeper into the warmth he provided with a content sigh. "Everything's fine, dad."

They didn't know yet, and she wasn't ready to tell them.

Just because her fathers were gay didn't make the issue of her own sexuality any easier to broach.

* * *

><p>When Monday came, Rachel was glad for the change of scenery but iffy about being back at school. Finn hadn't contacted her since Saturday and she didn't want to push. All she could hope was that Finn hadn't told a soul about the fact that she was gay because she was already enough of a social outcast without <em>that<em> bit of information getting out. She didn't want to add more reasons for people like Quinn, her airheaded Cheerio friends, and the jocks to torment her about.

She stood at her locker and groomed her appearance as best she could. She smoothed down a lock of hair, applied some lip gloss, frowned at the bags under her eyes—and that was when she saw her.

She closed her locker slowly as the students in the hallway all took to one side or another. Strutting down the hallway like she owned it was Quinn Fabray, flanked by Santana and Brittany. It was a common practice, everyday occurrence. Quinn, Santana, and Brittany would walk down the hallway, picking someone to stare into submission. This was the tactic they used to keep everyone in line and remain the top dogs in school. Only, Santana and Brittany would choose a different person to inflict their glares upon everyday. But Quinn? Since the day she knew Rachel existed, Rachel had been getting the same intense stare from Quinn. Since the day Quinn caught her at Finn's locker. Today was no different. Quinn sauntered down the hallway, her gaze sweeping from left to right. Then she blinked, those long eyelashes fluttering and when her eyes opened again, they zeroed in on Rachel.

Rachel stood nearly pinned against her locker as Quinn stared her down. With everything she had talked to Finn about two days ago, her heart raced in her chest as those intense hazel eyes bore into hers. Quinn always looked at her with the same expression. Completely unreadable, slightly narrowed eyes, lips pursed either in thought or anger—Rachel could never be sure, but she always leaned more towards anger. They maintained eye contact until Quinn bypassed her, strolling down the hallway without a backwards glance.

A shuddery breath was taken as she stared after Quinn's retreating form.

"What's up, girl?"

Rachel jumped clean off the floor and whirled around to find Kurt staring at her. "You scared me!" she breathed, clutching a hand to her chest in surprise.

"Woah, calm down, Jody Foster." Kurt smoothed back his hair, placing his hand on his hip as he scrutinized her white pressed button up shirt under an argyle sweater vest, short maroon skirt and brown penny loafers. Her skirts were technically too short for the dress code but she was so short that her height always gave the illusion that they weren't. Kurt sighed mournfully at her fashion sense before looking back up to meet her eyes. "Why do you look so skittish today?" He reached out to poke at the sleep bags under her eyes and she batted his hand away.

"I'm not skittish. I'm just…tired." She turned away from him and opened her locker, remembering she had actually forgotten to grab her books in her Quinn-induced haze.

Kurt shrugged. "Whatevs." He stepped closer, pitching his voice lower to tell her, "So, listen, I'm thinking about starting this LGBT club and I was wondering if you wanted to help me start it. Kinda like an underground thing because we all know how Lima loves its pitchforks and homophobia."

Her spine straightened at the comment. Did she have a sign on her back that said she was gay or something? Had Finn told people? All the color drained from her face. "Why would I want to join your LGBT club?" she asked, trying for innocuous but the lilt in her voice made Kurt's head tilt.

"Uh, because _you're_ the same girl who suggested a gay-les-ball in glee club." Kurt eyed her fumbling with her books and slamming of her locker curiously and took a step closer. "You're really off kilter today."

"Everyone has one of those days, I suppose." She looked up at him with a shaky smile, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Oh, come on, Rachel," he prodded. "The only people that are uncomfortable with joining a gay club are the gays. And you're not—" he laughed. "You're not gay, right?" He laughed heartily at the thought then trailed off as Rachel's face reddened. He clamped a hand over his mouth. "Stop it. Stop it right now."

Rachel's eyebrows drew together and slanted in confusion. "I'm not doing anything."

"Holy cow, you aren't even responding to the question," Kurt whispered.

Her eyes lowered as she clutched her books close to her chest.

"You're gay," Kurt hissed when she seemingly refused to utter another word. She didn't want anyone to know, but she had _always _prided herself on never denying who she was to other people. Whether it be Jewish, adopted, the child of two gay dads, Rachel had never denied who she was to anyone. And…she wasn't going to start now. Even though she had tried to turn a blind eye to her own sexuality for years now.

"_Who's gay?_"

Rachel balked. "Who is that?"

Kurt fumbled with the Bluetooth device in his ear as Rachel walked closer. "It's Mercedes." He angled his body slightly away from her as if he were carrying on a private conversation. "'Cedes, can you believe that?"

"_This is some crazy shit."_

"I know!"

Rachel's face burned. "Kurt—"

"_Girl, did you know Rachel was gay?_"

"Who is she talking to now?" Rachel hissed when it was clear Mercedes wasn't talking to Kurt because he didn't bother to respond to her. "Make her stop!"

"Mercedes, stop talking," Kurt instructed with wide, scared eyes as Rachel neared him.

"No, I had no idea," Rachel heard a familiar voice from behind her say. She whirled around to see Tina walking towards her, phone attached to her ear.

Tina pulled the phone away, calling, "Congrats, Rachel!" into the air.

Rachel scrambled to Tina, grabbing her by the strap of her bookbag and dragging her towards the lockers. She reached out and grabbed Kurt when he tried to back away. "Guys, please," she begged with wide, scared eyes. "This is all new for me, okay? Mercedes, are you listening?"

"_Loud and clear_."

"_None_ of you can say anything."

"No, we totally won't say anyth—"

"I mean it, Kurt," she pleaded, eyes shifting from Kurt to Tina, to the people walking down the hallway. "No one can know, please," she implored quietly. "I-I'm already a loser and if anyone finds out—"

"Hey, hey, hey," Kurt soothed, running a hand down her arm softly. "We get it. Well, _I_ get it. We all have something to hide—you and I just happen to have the same thing in common. Tina still fakes her stutter as if that's gonna get sympathy from anyone."

"S-s-shut up, Kurt!"

"Not helping, sweetheart." He smiled at Rachel. "Mercedes still pretends she's actually from the ghetto when I have on good authority that her father makes six figures."

"_Whatever_."

"So, don't worry. None of us are gonna tell."

Rachel wanted to believe the reassurance, she really did. But too many people were starting to find out and it was only a matter of time before one of them blathered to someone in McKinley—a jock, a Cheerio, _Quinn_—that could make her life a living hell. More than they already did.

But for now she had no choice but to store some stock of faith into her fellow glee clubbers because Tina and Kurt were both smiling at her encouragingly—with a glint of excitement in Kurt's eye because he had spent the entirety of freshman year being in the closet and the only gay person he was aware of.

Rachel's smile wavered then blossomed full blown to mimic the smiles around her.

* * *

><p>She had learned at the end of her spring semester last year that the bleachers outside by the football field had a mildly appealing view. It wasn't a palm trees and endless beaches kind of view, but it was flat land with minimal traffic—enough to keep from distracting Rachel when she just wanted a place alone to think.<p>

Though, she never liked to be _completely_ alone and, thus, the occasional grunting of the football players and the enraged yelling of Coach Tanaka provided enough companionship. And if she was lucky enough that Sue saw fit to drag the Cheerios onto the football field to make them run laps as punishment for something—which happened more than it probably should have. Someone should have probably been looking into that because child labor laws often came to mind as Rachel watched them run laps—she would catch sight of Quinn. Quinn smiling, Quinn laughing, Quinn scowling at someone other than her for a change, Quinn's long hair, neatly pulled back into a ponytail.

The thing was, she didn't have a crush on Quinn. Really. It was more like an attraction. Rachel had eyes. She could very well see Quinn Fabray and all she had to offer and had concluded the first day she saw her last year—after drawing up a list and making some rearrangements—that Quinn was in fact the prettiest girl she had ever met. So her…_thoughts_ of Quinn were nothing more than her realizing an attraction.

A faint screeching of metal dragged her from her thoughts and Rachel looked down the rows of bleachers to find Finn approaching her. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in his pinched eyes. He was dressed in his football practice attire and Rachel squinted as his white pants caught the sun in the worst way possible. He walked up to her row and though there was an entire expanse of cooled metal to sit on, she felt compelled to scoot over anyway. "Hi, Finn," she began tentatively.

"Hey." He sat down beside her. Their thighs touched and both of them jumped a little at the contact. Finn looked down at where their joint contact was before looking away. Rachel tried her best to look at him but the sun shined brightly behind him, so she squinted, determined to get a good look at him.

"A-are we okay?"

Finn's gaze ran down the bleachers towards his teammates filing off the field. "Yeah, I guess," he grumbled. "Sorry about not handling that whole situation well, but you gotta admit—"

"I know," Rachel said softly. Her shoulders slumped with some form of relief because maybe they would have to rebuild the friendship they once had, but at least Finn was still talking to her.

A bullhorn sounded and they both startled. Rachel covered her ears as Sue Sylvester's voice permeated the entire football field with authority. "Ladies, get your sloppy asses on this field!"

One by one, the Cheerios began filing onto the field. A few football players had stayed on the field and as they lined up to watch the cheerleaders run, Rachel could guess why.

Both Rachel and Finn spotted Quinn at the same time, bringing up the rear, and they both had two completely different reactions. Rachel shifted in her seat, crossing her legs and looking to Finn discretely from the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction. Finn scowled down at the football field. They didn't utter a word to each other.

Then Noah Puckerman walked up to the line of cheerleaders and grabbed Quinn's hand. She stopped. Her lips lifted and Rachel watched the most dazzling smile grace her face. Quinn pried her hand away and as Rachel faintly heard Puck calling out to her, Quinn kept running without a backwards glance.

That was when Finn finally spoke. "Puck likes her. Or…wants to bang her, really."

Rachel made a face of disgust, her lips twisting in thought. "Noah is your best friend, correct?"

He nodded tightly.

"Then isn't he breaking the 'guy code' as you called it?" she asked curiously.

One of his shoulders lifted into a lazy shrug. "We already talked about it. Or fought about it. Whatever."

She blinked rapidly in confusion. "How does that solve anything?"

The corner of his mouth lifted into a lopsided grin. "Guys aren't that complicated, Rach. Something happens, we fight—either with words or, you know, we beat each other up, then we get over it." He looked on as the Cheerios began stretching.

Rachel licked her lips in thought as she mulled over his words. A boy's way of dealing with issues seemed kind of barbaric, but the simplicity was appealing. "So, would you say this is our 'getting over it' stage?" she asked carefully.

"Well, something _did_ happen and we _did_ argue about it," Finn reasoned, his smile stretching. "I _guess_ we're over it now."

"I rather like boys' logic," she concluded with a grin of her own. Finn chuckled as she wrapped her arms around one of his and leaned her head on his shoulder, sighing as she watched the Cheerios practice their routine. They were good. All those practices nearly every day of the week—weekends included—were paying off in a big way. They were agile, purposeful and…rather flexible.

"You ever thought about being a Cheerio?" Finn asked after a few minutes.

"Though I don't doubt I could handle the strenuous physical activity—" Rachel winced as Sue yelled another insult into her bullhorn, "—I doubt I'd ever be able to handle the emotional trauma of being under Coach Sylvester's thumb."

"She's crazy!" Finn exclaimed with a laugh.

"Certifiable," Rachel agreed.

It was silent again for a moment and Rachel allowed her eyes to wander. Puck wasn't on the field anymore, none of the football players were. The only ones on the field were Sue and the cheerleaders. She marveled at the sight of Quinn being tossed in the air, legs parting into a sky split before she was effortlessly caught by a group of cheerleaders below her.

She had long ago realized how dedicated Quinn was to the athleticism of cheering. It was something Rachel could admire and relate to because having an astounding vocal range didn't just fall into her lap. It was something she worked at every day and as she watched Quinn stand aside as the other Cheerios made a pyramid, then take her rightful place on top, Rachel knew Quinn worked just as hard at being number one.

"So…" he drawled in the silence between them. "Got a lot of homework tonight?"

Rachel cringed on the inside. Finn was obviously uncomfortable with this whole setup—the two of them sitting together watching the Cheerios, essentially Quinn, practice. Rachel was probably going to have to find another thinking spot.

"Yep," she chirped, mashing her hands together and sliding them between her tightly pressed legs to keep from fidgeting. "The geometry teacher is a bit of a monster—she likes to give a lot of homework."

Finn smiled and scratched the side of his face. "Yeah, I can't help with that."

"Q!" Sue bellowed. "I assigned you captain because I believed you could whip these bulimic toddlers into shape. Don't tell me I've made a mistake."

Rachel watched Quinn's eyes pinch more from annoyance than from the sun. She said something that Rachel didn't catch, then Sue dismissed all of them with one final jab.

Finn stood from the bleachers. "I gotta shower and stuff, so I'm gonna go."

"I'll accompany you." The both gave pause at that and Rachel flushed in embarrassment. "Not to the _shower_…obviously, because—"

"Because you're gay," Finn supplied.

"Not out loud!" she hissed. Then he almost smiled which made Rachel smile and together, they walked down the bleachers.

They were walking around the set of bleachers just as Quinn was walking through an opening in the gate. Rachel caught the glare in her eye immediately and tried her best to speed up and away from one of their seemingly inevitable altercations.

"Stubbles," Quinn said evenly. "Finn."

Finn came to a smooth stop in front of Quinn and Rachel tensed where she stood, spinning slowly to come face to face with her. Her hair was slicked back into a neat ponytail, trailing down her back in dark blonde curls. Her eyebrows, thin and perfectly manicured, danced along her forehead until one arched in what Rachel guessed was irritation. Her skin glistened from the exertion of her practice and Rachel couldn't help but think it looked appealing along with the semi-rapid rise and fall of her chest. She had a smile on her face that was anything _but_ pleasant as her gaze darted from Rachel to Finn.

"Did you just come here to flaunt Finn in front of me, Berry?" Quinn gritted out through white, perfectly straightened teeth. Her face pulled taut, making the dimple in her chin more pronounced and Rachel had the oddest urge to smile at it.

She stomped it down.

"N-no, I wasn't—I wouldn't ever try to flaunt Finn in front of y—"

"We're not even together anymore," Finn explained easily enough. Rachel looked up to him nervously and he shrugged. They both turned back to Quinn whose face was slowly contorting from confusion to understanding.

Quinn hoisted her bag further on her shoulder, cocking a hip out as if she was getting comfortable. Her head tilted as her eyes narrowed. "You guys aren't together anymore?" she asked skeptically.

Rachel shook her head, rubbing her lips together nervously as she waited for more of a response from Quinn.

"Why?"

Rachel took a step back in shock. "I—well, we—"

"Cut to the chase," she interrupted.

Finn took a protective stance, stepping in front of Rachel. "Why do you wanna know?"

Quinn's eyes narrowed dangerously. She took a step back to be able to look up at him fully without having to break her neck and placed both hands on her hips. "You left me for her," she replied tersely, enunciating every syllable in a way that made Rachel shiver. "I have a right to know why it ended."

Rachel scoffed incredulously, close to voicing how ludicrous that statement was when Quinn's gaze rounded on her. She literally walked around Finn just to stand in front of her. Rachel stood ramrod stiff as Quinn walked even closer. She swallowed when hazel eyes dipped from her own down her body then back, sizing her up. "Why are you being so quiet, Berry?"

Her voice was low and Rachel released a breath in surprise because Quinn didn't sound particularly angry. She sounded curious. Like she was genuinely inquisitive about her breakup with Finn and not two seconds away from ripping her face off like Rachel had thought.

The thing was, when Quinn had quit glee club after Rachel and Finn had become an item, Rachel was almost positive Quinn had placed a hit on her. The only reason Quinn even joined glee club in the first place was to _keep_ Finn and when that didn't happen, she left without a word, taking Brittany and Santana with her. And, aside from the glares of doom that weren't all that scary anymore in the hallway, Rachel didn't have much contact with her. Even when she got slushied, she would sometimes look around just knowing Quinn would be there to watch and gawk and laugh, but…she wasn't. She never was and Rachel had never known what to do with that information.

"Are you going to answer my question or are you just going to _stare_ at me all day?"

She blinked once and Quinn was still mere inches from her face. Blushing, Rachel took several steps back, her gaze darting wildly from Finn to the football field to Quinn again. "I-I'm not purposefully being quiet to annoy you, Quinn," she said in a shaky voice. She tugged on the hem of her sweater and cleared her throat. "However, Finn and I—our breakup is—with all due respect, none of your business. I really wish to keep it between he and I because relationships are rather personal and—"

"Save it," Quinn said, waving her off with a roll of her eyes. She held Rachel's gaze for a few more painstaking seconds before she looked up to Finn. Rachel watched as the two of them seemed to be communicating something she didn't understand. They continued to stare at each other, a multitude of emotions flashing over Finn's face as Quinn's stony expression never wavered except for an eyebrow lift that had Finn whining in some kind of protest. Quinn smirked victoriously, finally looking away from him. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder once more before walking away. "Bye." She shoulder checked Rachel as she walked away.

Rachel touched a hand to her shoulder, turning her head to watch Quinn's retreating form briefly before looking back to Finn. "What was that?"

He shifted from foot to foot, his lips balled up in annoyance. "She wants me to tell her why we broke up."

"Why?" Rachel whined. This was so not good.

He shrugged. "Because she's kinda a bitch."

There was a reprimand on the tip of her tongue but she withheld it because…yeah, Quinn pretty much was a bitch. Rachel felt her hands become clammy and her stomach start to churn. "But you aren't going to tell her, right?"

Finn shook his head. "Your secret's safe with me, Rach."


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

* * *

><p>Rachel eyed Finn skeptically as he picked up three pens from her desk, holding two in his left hand and one in his right to demonstrate how well he could juggle. She was skeptical for two reasons. One, there was no way in hell Finn would be able to juggle those pens and this was probably going to end with her running to the bathroom for a first aid kit. And two…Finn had told her that he didn't tell Quinn.<p>

"Are you certain?" Rachel asked as Finn walked towards the middle of her floor. She scooted back on the bed to put more space between herself and the pens that would undoubtedly go flying during Finn's demonstration. She folded her legs under her. "If you told her, you should tell me that you did."

"I didn't," Finn insisted in a prideful voice. "Honestly. And I mean, she was so scary, Rachel. You should have seen her."

"What was she doing?" Rachel found herself asking in genuine curiosity.

Finn waved her off as if it were nothing. He tossed a pen in the air, then tried to toss another towards his free hand—somewhere along the way he didn't have enough free hands and one of the pens fell to the floor. Rachel breathed a quiet sigh in relief that he hadn't put his eye out. "She was all like, 'You need to tell me what happened between you and Rachel,' or whatever and—"

"She said 'Rachel'?" Rachel blurted out.

"—then she—what?" Finn paused at her question, holding the pens tightly in his grasp as he stared at Rachel.

"I was just wondering—did she? Say my name, I mean," she elaborated.

Finn stared at her oddly then, a mix between confused comprehension and slight irritation—probably at the fact that Rachel actually _cared_ whether or not Quinn said her name.

"She said Rachel," he affirmed with slight hesitation. "Anyway, so I told her I wasn't gonna tell her anything and then she tried to get all sweet, you know?"

"No," Rachel said plainly and Finn laughed.

"Well, she does this thing when she doesn't get her way," he explained, gesturing with his hands fisted around the pens. "First she tries to demand shit and when she doesn't get what she wants, she tries to be nice to you in order to get it."

Rachel smiled amusedly as Finn broke down the many tactics of Quinn Fabray.

"Then when that doesn't work, she goes back to demanding as if giving you, I don't know, some warning or something that things are gonna get bad if you don't give her what she wants." He paused, touching his fist to his chin in thought. "I've never made it past that level before because I've seen scary Quinn a few times and it's, you know…scary."

"Was she scary Quinn last night?"

Finn nodded gravely with wide eyes. "She had somehow tricked me into sitting down and then she was standing over me when she said, 'Tell me what I want to know, Finn'," he mocked her voice, enunciating every syllable the way Quinn did and Rachel giggled at how ridiculous he sounded. "Then I said no and she goes, 'You _know_ I have the power to end your barely there, lame ass reputation, right?'"

"Ouch," Rachel intoned with a wince.

Finn shrugged solemnly, continuing. "'_I _made you who you are, Finn, don't forget that. And I can end you. So, how about you tell me why you and Rachel broke up and things don't have to go that far.'"

Though Quinn threatening Finn's reputation was pretty bad, Rachel couldn't help but get hung up on the fact that Quinn had used her first name twice while in Finn's presence. She sometimes wondered if Quinn even knew her name but this was definitely proof that she did know but purposefully avoided using it.

"I'm surprised you were actually able to keep the secret," Rachel said after a moment. "Thank you, Finn."

He grinned. "I told you I'd keep your secret."

"Even still, this is…strange," she murmured. "Why is she so fixated on this?"

He shrugged. "Maybe she's over it now, though. I think since she knows I won't say anything that she'll just let it go." He tossed a pen in the air again and began juggling. Like, _actual_ juggling.

"Woah," Rachel breathed in an impressed voice. "You actually can juggle."

"Told you so."

He continued for a few more seconds but ultimately ended up with a pen in his eye. "Shit, Rachel!"

She was already off the bed, walking to the bathroom for a first aid kit. She fumbled in the cabinets until she pulled the white case out, rushing back to her bedroom. Finn was already on the bed, clutching his right eye. "Why does this hurt so bad?"

Rachel smiled. "Because you were juggling pointed objects."

"It's not like you have anything soft to juggle around here," he grumbled.

She patiently pried his hand from his eye, wincing at the nearly swollen shut eye staring right back at her. "The best I can do is create a makeshift eye patch for you, Finn." She rubbed just below his eye.

"That's fine," he told her.

Rachel took to her first aid kit and meticulously made an eye patch. She taped it to Finn's eye, pulling back to look at him with an amused smile. "You look like a pirate."

He grimaced a smile like his pride hurt, muttering an, "Argh", sound that Rachel chuckled at. She pulled back to place her items away, Finn staring at her the whole time. "So, did you like, _not_ enjoy our kisses…at all?"

There was a barely there pause in what she was doing before she went back to it, avoiding Finn's eyes as she muttered, "It wasn't that I didn't enjoy them. I enjoyed them in the sense that…they were a sign of affection."

"But they didn't turn you on at all," he finished her unspoken words.

She shook her head but didn't voice the negation.

Finn licked his lips nervously covering his throbbing eye as he asked, "Does thinking about Quinn turn you on?"

"I don't think about her often," Rachel quickly said.

"But when you do," he said slowly, "it turns you on."

He didn't voice it as a question and, thus, Rachel didn't bother to answer. But the silence that lingered between them was enough of an answer. She closed the kit with a sigh. "I don't know why we have to keep talking about her."

"I just—it's weird."

"I know, okay?" She finally looked up to meet his eyes. "This is just as weird for me and honestly I'd like if we could just move on from it. Now that Quinn knows she won't be privy to the knowledge of me being gay, she can move on too. And all of us can collectively move on from this little bump in the road as if it never happened."

Finn nodded reluctantly in a way that told Rachel he still wanted to talk about her sexuality to assuage his own hang-ups about it. But as it stood, though she was moderately fine with talking about her sexuality, talking about her sexuality in relation to Quinn just made her uncomfortable.

She sighed at the semi-eager look on his face. "Fine, Finn. But you can _only_ ask me about being gay, not about Quinn." She grabbed the first aid kit, brow furrowing as she grumbled, "I'm not some sort of circus freak."

"You're not," Finn agreed. "I don't know; I'm just curious. The only lesbians I've seen are on porn and sometimes they even hook up with men, so my experience with lesbians is kinda—"

"Warped," Rachel quipped, grimacing at the fact that Finn watched porn. Not that there was anything wrong with watching porn—she had watched a few in her time for research purposes—but she had been over to Finn's house, saw the computer that that rested on the kitchen table that he and his mom both used and the horrid image of Finn in the kitchen, jerking off then touching the same computer his mother would later be using…gross.

Finn stopped with a blush but a proud smirk all the same. "I guess what I'm saying is, umm, how does lesbianism work?"

"No different than a standard heterosexual relationship works," Rachel said as she walked towards the bathroom to return the first aid kit. She walked back into the room with a thoughtful frown. "But I've never actually been in a relationship with a girl, so I guess I wouldn't really know."

"What happens when you guys are on the same, uh…cycle or whatever?"

Rachel looked at him strangely. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "When Quinn and I used to date, she used to complain about not being able to tolerate Santana when they were on their periods at the same time." He paused for a beat. "Then she cried."

Rachel tried to fight a smile from her face. There was something so oddly refreshing about hearing about Quinn actually expressing emotions other than anger. It was endearing, knowing that she was capable of crying.

"It would probably be moderately difficult to handle my hypothetical girlfriend if she and I were on the same cycle," she murmured thoughtfully. She sighed. "But, I suppose it doesn't matter because I doubt I'll have a girlfriend while living in Lima."

"Because of homophobia, right?"

"Yeah…" she bit her lip pensively.

"So, if you knew of a gay chick here, would you be with her?" He touched a hand to his eye to assess the damage and groaned at how much pain he felt.

"Don't touch it," Rachel chastised. She walked over to sit beside him on the bed as she contemplated his question. "I don't know," she finally said. "I don't know of any lesbians here and, if I did, I don't know if I would want to be with one, if I would fall in love with her, desire her. Those are all important aspects of a relationship to me."

Finn shifted, muttering something quietly to himself. Rachel instantly picked up on the act and reluctantly looked down to the erection she could see outlined in his pants. Her eyes closed in disbelief and exasperation. "Finn—"

"Yeah, sorry about that," he replied sheepishly. "But it was your fault; you kept talking about desiring women and stuff."

"I said the word desire one time!" Rachel said incredulously.

"What can I say—I'm easy!"

* * *

><p>Things were normal.<p>

Relatively.

No one, but Kurt, had felt the need to bring her sexuality up in the past two days. And even when Kurt brought it up, he was just trying to be supportive. Overly so, but it was better than any other alternative. Rachel still felt the same, but…freer. She didn't have to keep dating and kissing Finn—or any boy for that matter. That thought made her smile. Then made her frown because it wasn't like she was going to be dating or kissing _girls_ any time soon.

She pushed a shaky breath past her lips because she simply _did_ _not_ even _know_ where to begin when it came to kissing girls. Sure, she had thought about Quinn once, twice…a few times, but where was she supposed to put her hands? Did girls like tongue in their mouths or was it too much, because whenever Finn had stuck his tongue in her mouth it had always felt like an invasion.

Rachel wasn't really sure. Not that it mattered because there was no way she'd be kissing a girl any time soon. Maybe when she went to New York, a place where homosexuality was much more accepted and lesbians were more out and open. New York seemed to be the place where both her talent and sexuality would flourish.

The entire hallway began to stir and Rachel closed her locker—making sure to get her books this time—before leaning back against it. Quinn, Santana, and Brittany began walking down the hallway in their typical _Mean_ _Girls_ routine. But this time was different. Quinn caught her eye, whispered something to Santana, then Brittany, then smoothly broke off from the pair, walking right towards her.

Rachel tried her best to fall through her locker as Quinn approached her in what was seemingly slow motion because it was taking forever for her to walk down this damn hallway. For once, Rachel wished a jock would just come by and shove her into her locker and close her in it. Her eyes, wide in her head, looked around, trying to find someone, _anyone_ but her in her near vicinity that Quinn could possibly be walking to, but there was no one but her.

Quinn closed in on her, sliding along the locker and Rachel watched Santana and Brittany continue down the hallway without a glance in their direction.

"Berry."

She tensed at that voice, turning around to face the owner of it more fully. Quinn stood in front of her, one hand braced on the locker, the other on her hip.

Rachel gulped for a breath. "Good morning, Quinn. I trust all is well with you," she rushed out. "Well, anyhow, I have to get to class soon before someone takes my seat and—"

"Stop talking," Quinn instructed in a tone of voice that brooked no argument.

Rachel took a deep breath and held it. She briefly focused past Quinn to the hustle and bustle of the hallway. She took another deep breath, willing herself to calm down. She couldn't help but cast a glance behind her to find the person that she just knew had a slushie waiting for her.

Quinn puffed out an annoyed breath. "I'm over here, Berry. Pay attention."

When the coast looked sufficiently clear, Rachel turned around to Quinn who, unsurprisingly, had an annoyed look on her face. Her eyes narrowed slightly as her gaze ran up and down Rachel before snapping to her eyes again suddenly. "Finn wouldn't tell me why the two of you broke up."

Rachel fought back a smile, both at Quinn's obvious frustration and the fact that Finn hadn't told her. Her lips quivered.

"However," Quinn growled, "he _did_ inform me that you have a little secret you're keeping, Berry, and I intend to find out what it is."

She blanched at the statement. Finn hadn't told her _that_ part. "W-why?" she stammered. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

Quinn smiled one of those smiles that lacked warmth as she said, "Because you're hiding something and I want to know what it is."

"Yes, something that has absolutely nothing to do with you," Rachel replied a little testily. She was beginning to feel like an animal being backed into a corner. And like one, her claws were more or less presenting themselves. "It's none of your business."

Quinn took a threatening step closer. "I'm making it my business," she said lowly. "And I suggest you tell me because if you don't, I'll make your life a living hell."

Rachel scoffed derisively, peering up at Quinn. "As if you don't already."

She watched as Quinn took a deep breath, eyes closing as if she were counting to ten to get ahold of herself. When her eyes opened again, they held less malice though they were no less intense as Quinn seemingly stared a hole right through her. "I'll find out one way or another."

The noise of students talking and laughing muffled until they faded into nearly nothing. Rachel felt like someone had shoved a handful of cotton ball into her ears and somehow the only person that could penetrate the fog in her mind was the very person that created it.

Quinn's arm slid from the locker. She took her hand off her hip, losing some of her severity as she took yet another step closer. Her eyes trailed down Rachel's body with a small frown. "Finn saw something in you; he must have if he left me for you."

Rachel stood dumbfounded at Quinn's latest revelation and the inquisitive tone it was spoken in. She didn't know how to respond and the expectant look on Quinn's face told her that a response was needed. Now. "I don't really know what to say…"

Quinn sighed. "Of course not." Her lips pulled down into a scowl as she began backing away. "I tried to do this the easy way, Berry, but whatever." She walked right past Rachel and down the hallway without a backwards glance and once again leaving Rachel confused about how Quinn felt and how Rachel herself was supposed to feel.

She felt dread pull through her and decided to speed to class, maybe find Finn.

* * *

><p>That hit that she had always felt Quinn had placed on her? Rachel was pretty sure it was in full effect. The dismissal bell rang after her last class and everyone filed out of the room. Rachel slowly stood and collected her items. Hopefully by the time she was done packing, the hallway would be clear. She looked up to her teacher eyeing her impatiently, wanting to go home, but Rachel took her time.<p>

After everything was squared away, Rachel tentatively walked toward the door. She tiptoed out into the empty hallway and swiftly began walking to the choir room. Every few seconds she would look over her shoulder. When she didn't see anyone, she took to the stairs to walk down to the first floor. She pulled her bag closer to her and hot footed it down the stairs.

Only to come to a screeching half on the middle step when Quinn rounded the corner. Rachel stopped with a quiet squeak of surprise. Quinn passed a sweeping glance in Rachel's direction. She tensed at the sight of her and smiled cruelly. Rachel swallowed anxiously. She straightened her spine and continued walking down the stairs slowly, determined to make it to glee club regardless of what happened between her and Quinn in this moment.

Quinn's head tilted, her eyes more clearly showing surprise the closer Rachel got. Then, Quinn walked over to rest against the railing of the stair, waiting. Rachel's heart fluttered stupidly as all of this put her in the mind of prom that wouldn't be for another year or two depending on if she decided to go to her junior prom—Quinn waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Except, this wasn't that. But damn, if Quinn didn't look pretty anyway. Her lips looked especially red today with the aid of either lip gloss or lipstick, Rachel couldn't be sure.

When she got to the bottom of the stairs, Quinn was glaring at her pointedly. Rachel exhaled slowly as she stood on the bottom step in front of the Quinn. It put them both at the same height and Rachel rested easier with the somewhat equal footing. Quinn looked…almost amused for the barest second before her glare kicked up two notches and she said, "Ready to tell me what I want to know, Berry?"

Her mild curiosity was turning into an obsession which intrigued Rachel because, why was Quinn Fabray so fixated on why she and Finn broke up all of a sudden? She looked around the empty hallway, bit her lip in contemplation on how to respond because Quinn _was_ going to be expecting a response and soon. "Quinn, the reason why Finn and I broke up is, as I've stated before, private and between us." Quinn growled lowly at her answer and Rachel shook off the shiver creeping down her spine. "However, if you want Finn, then I would be more than happy to step out of the way permanently and let you have him," she finished stiltedly. The words didn't feel right as she said them and she swallowed as if getting the taste of them off her tongue.

Quinn's eyebrows slanted in muted surprise. "You'd let me have Finn?" she asked skeptically. "_Let_ me?"

Rachel cringed. "Poor word choice. The point is, you can have Finn again. If you want. In fact—" there was a part of her that hated herself for what she was about to say, "—if you join glee club, it'd probably be easier to get Finn back." But an even bigger part of her that loved winning and in order to qualify for Sectionals she'd need Quinn and her friends back.

Quinn's head dipped in thought, jaw working back in forth and Rachel watched the contours of her jaw, how sharp and defined it truly looked from certain angles. Her gaze wandered down the length of her throat to the flare of strong, feminine shoulders and slim, muscular arms. When her gaze snapped back up, Quinn was watching her intently. "I'll rejoin," she said evenly.

Rachel smiled. "Lovely. Now if you could just get Santana and Brittany—"

"I'll rejoin," Quinn reiterated a little forcefully, "if you tell me your secret."

The sentence Rachel had been in the middle of wilted and died in the back of her throat as she gawked at Quinn. "I can't just _tell_ you that—"

"Yes, you can," Quinn enunciated with a tight, annoyed voice.

Her heart hammered in panic. "No, I really can't—"

"If you want to qualify for Sectionals," she hissed, leaning closer until all Rachel saw was deathly serious hazel eyes, "then you'll tell me."

Rachel's shoulders slumped in defeat and Quinn leaned back with a victorious smile on her face.

She fidgeted from foot to foot, trying and failing to find a way out of this situation. She kind of felt like crying, the pressure building behind her eyes. Quinn was going to make fun of her; she just knew it. She was going to make fun of her and tell her friends and the jocks and then Rachel was going to be bullied more than ever.

And if that were the case, then why was she two seconds away from spilling her secret for the good of the club? Everyone there called her selfish but after this was over, they would be kissing her feet because she gave them the opportunity to qualify for Sectionals.

Her thoughts were jumbled and she couldn't really get a handle on them all.

"I'm waiting, Berry."

Cue Quinn to slice through all of them.

Rachel swallowed thickly. She gathered courage, counting backwards from five—Quinn wouldn't be patient enough for her to count from ten. "Okay, I'll tell you," she whispered tremulously.

Quinn made a sound of approval, placing her hands on her hips.

Rachel leaned closer, lowering her eyes to Quinn's clavicle when she couldn't look at her directly. She took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt them well with tears. "I'm gay," she whispered softly.

She heard a barely there intake of breath, then nothing. Rachel opened her eyes, brimming with tears, and looked up to the surprised expression on Quinn's face. Finally, she couldn't take anymore. She shoved past Quinn and down the hallway.

Her tears managed to wait until she made it to the bathroom, then trickled down her face as she ran to the nearest stall. She took deep, calming breaths, scrambling for toilet paper to wipe her face. She wondered if she was crazy. She had just told the number one person in her life that was obsessed with making her life hell that she was gay. She just gave Quinn Fabray more ammunition to make her life hell, had given the girl she had…_thoughts _about free reign to go after Finn if she wanted. She slumped back against the toilet seat, angry with herself.

* * *

><p>After about ten minutes, Rachel finally managed to pick herself up. She walked listlessly to the choir room, opening the door as discretely as she could.<p>

"Rachel, hi," Mr. Schuester greeted.

Rachel grimaced on the inside, walking further into the room and plastering a smile on her face. "Hi, Mr. Schue. I apologize for my tardiness." She didn't elaborate further and avoided everyone's curious gaze before sitting down beside Finn.

He took one look at her, then muttered, "What's wrong?"

"Quinn knows," was all she told him. Then she looked up at him, her stare turning into a glare as she muttered, "And we need to talk."

Finn winced, both in sympathy and nervousness. He curled an arm around her shoulder and Rachel burrowed there, uncertain about how things would go from here.

From the top most row Kurt shot her a confused glare.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

* * *

><p>"You didn't tell me you told her I had a secret, Finn!" Rachel hissed incredulously as she whopped Finn across the shoulder with a stack of sheet music. After her encounter with Quinn, Rachel had stewed in glee club in humiliation and anger at the fact that Finn hadn't been entirely truthful.<p>

"Ow, I'm sorry; cut that out!" He dodged as best he could, which wasn't very much considering his size. "I didn't think it'd be a big deal." He reached down and grabbed Rachel's hand before she had the chance to hit him again. He looked down at her, hair mussed and chest rising and falling more rapidly from exertion, a small blush to her cheeks.

Rachel frowned with a sigh as she took a step back. "Don't look at me like that," she mumbled.

His eyes dropped from hers as he took several steps back, motions jerky. "I didn't know she'd keep pushing. I thought just telling her that you had your own secret apart from our break up would make her lose interest."

"Yeah, well, good job with that," Rachel snapped uncharacteristically as she began pacing the floor. She threw the sheet music across the room in a fit and it softly landed on the floor around her desk. Her thoughts were jumbled, flying from wrapping her mind around the fact that she actually told Quinn she was gay, to how to do damage control. Maybe Quinn would magically forget the fact that Rachel had revealed she was gay?

Not likely.

Quinn was going to bully her. She was going to waltz into glee club, get back with Finn and—

Rachel paused in her pacing. Her heart _hurt_ at the thought. The thought of Quinn and Finn, Quinn and Puck, Quinn and anyone. But why did it hurt?

"Hey, I'm sorry," Finn called from over her shoulder. Her lips quirked up wryly. It was as if he were apologizing for the fact that Quinn was going to want him back. "But _you_ were the one who told her you were gay when you didn't even have to."

Rachel whirled around quickly at his comment. "I told her because I knew she wouldn't let up!" she exclaimed loudly. "You of all people know how obsessive Quinn can be when she sets her mind on something; she wasn't going to let it go!"

"You could have stalled her," Finn shot back. "You could have kept it going—"

"And get slushied twice as much as I already do now because she ordered them all in fit of rage?" Rachel growled. "No, thanks. I already have enough bras in the trash because it's impossible to get the stain out of some of the fabrics."

Finn didn't respond and when Rachel looked back up, he had this dopey look on his face. "Stop thinking about my bras!" she yelled, face flushed in anger.

Finn took a step back in shock. Rachel had never been this angry before. She was yelling and growling and making all kinds of sounds that he had never heard her make before. "Look," he said quietly, "you need to calm down a little."

"Don't tell me to calm down!" she shouted. She instantly clamped a hand over her mouth, surprised by her own outburst. "I-I'm sorry, Finn," she whispered.

Finn sighed, walking towards the bed and sitting down. He patted the space beside him and Rachel sat down, back stiff, jaw tight.

"I told her I was gay," Rachel began slowly, "so that she, Santana, and Brittany would join glee club."

"That wasn't very smart," Finn told her. "We could have just gotten other people to fill their spots."

Rachel turned towards him, brow furrowing in annoyance. "And just who else would we have gotten to replace them, Finn? It's not like we have people lining up to join the club. We were lucky that you were able to bring your football friends and, in a surge of jealousy, Quinn joined and brought two of her friends."

He opened his mouth to rebuff her statement, but came up empty. Rachel was right. No one wanted to join glee club because everyone thought it was lame. Finn included, if he were truthful. He ran a hand across his face wearily. "So, what? You told Quinn that you'll tell her your secret if she joined the club and, what? That's it?"

Rachel inhaled a deep breath. "And…I told her that if she wanted you back, she could have you." She looked away from the slowly forming look of shock on Finn's face. Her hands fidgeted in front of her as Finn sat beside her, mulling over her words. Her heart felt like someone had their hands wrapped around it, squeezing it until it hurt.

"Oh…" he scratched his head in confusion. "I—cool, I guess?"

Rachel swallowed tightly, her tongue feeling lead heavy as she tried to ask, "Do you want her?"

He shrugged instantly. "I mean, she's hot and…there's no chance with you, right?"

Reluctantly, Rachel shook her head. She almost wanted to tell him he had a chance just to keep him away from Quinn. How wrong was that? And what did _that_ even mean?

Finn shifted where he sat, eyes dipping to Rachel's carpeted floor. "And y-you don't like her…right?"

They both flinched at the question, scared of what the answer may be. Rachel stared hard at her hands as she considered Finn's question. There was no way she could have had a crush on Quinn. Quinn bullied her every chance she got, tried to intimidate her, humiliated her—why would, _how_ could Rachel _ever_ like her?

"No," she mumbled after a moment.

Finn nodded. "Yeah…then I guess I'll say yes, if she's interested."

Her chest felt heavy like someone was sitting on it and she took shallow breaths to fill herself with oxygen when it felt like her heart began to beat slower.

* * *

><p>Things have been…weird today.<p>

As soon as she walked into the building, people were staring at her. It was odd because she didn't particularly get a lot of attention unless she was walking down the halls with Finn. When that happened, she'd get jealous looks from girls, from Quinn. But as Rachel walked down the hallway upon entering school, the looks being directed towards her weren't looks of envy and jealousy, it was intrigue, confusion, laced with mild contempt. A group of girls walked by, staring at her before whispering amongst themselves and Rachel's eyebrows lifted along her forehead in anxiety.

The only question that floated through her mind as she walked down the hallway was: did everyone know? Determination kept her head high but apprehension kept her from meeting everyone's gaze. When she finally reached her locker, she burrowed against the cold metal to keep away from prying eyes. She looked towards her own wide, brown eyes through the reflection of her mirror and tried to train a smile onto her face. Her lips stretched into the fakest smile she had ever seen on her face and her shoulders slumped. She peered around her locker door to see if anyone was coming, wondering if she could make it to class without being slushied.

"Rachel Berry, just the person I was looking for!"

Rachel's heart lurched in her chest at the loud, shrill voice greeting her. She turned around, puffing out calm breaths to fight off what she was sure was an impending heart attack as Jacob Ben Israel stood in front of her. "Hi…" she muttered, voice abnormally devoid of warmth.

Jacob smiled at her, his lips stretching to show the dried cracks in them from, Rachel was sure, lack of lip balm usage. He jabbed a microphone in front of her face, clicking on a hand held camcorder he seemingly produced from nowhere as he asked, "Care to comment on the latest gossip?"

Her eyes widened to an impossible size as her throat tightened. "W-what gossip?" she squeaked, eyes darting from the camera to Jacob. Her heart thumped loudly against her chest until Rachel was sure it stopped beating all together. This was the point in which Jacob would ask her, she would say yes because she had never been able to deny who she was, and she would forever be bullied and the target of hate crimes. There would forever be a tape in circulation that had Rachel Berry confirming her lesbian lifestyle.

The microphone was brought closer to her lips and she craned her neck away from it, having no earthly idea where that thing had been. She peered down at it in disgust, having no respect for Jacob and his gossip blog that printed lies about her more often than not. When she looked back up at Jacob, he was mouthing at her to speak louder.

"Don't play with us, Rachel; my fans are waiting to know." His smile widened as if to encourage her to spill private details about her own life.

Rachel clutched her books tighter to her chest, plastering on the same fake smile she had given herself in the mirror. "I-I have no idea what you're talking about. There are no rumors about me."

"Yes, there are," Jacob insisted. "The rumor about you and Finn breaking up. It had been circulating in uncertainty for a few days now, but I have an inside source that confirmed it for me."

Rachel blinked once, twice, three times before a hysterical laugh was barked from the back of her throat. A hand reached up to cover her mouth in disbelief at this situation. Tears of happiness prickled her eyes and she looked away briefly.

Quinn hadn't told.

No one knew she was gay.

Well, _some_ people knew, but the school at large wasn't privy to that part of her and as she stood there, eyes darting from Jacob to his camera in disbelief, she was so very thankful. "I—y-yes, Finn and I are no longer an item," she said almost happily.

Jacob squealed in happiness and Rachel scowled, taking a step back. "And how are you coping with this recent development, Miss Berry?" he asked, batting his eyelashes at her as he told her, "If you ever need a strong shoulder to cry on—"

"I'll find someone with said shoulder," Rachel quipped with a roll of her eyes. She slammed her locker shut, turning back to him. "Now please leave me alone."

Jacob fumbled to turn off his camcorder, shoving it into the pocket of his cargo pants as he told Rachel, "You really should consider going out on a date with me. I can easily be your rebound after your devastating break up with Finn."

"It wasn't devastating!" Rachel couldn't help but yell as Jacob scurried down the hallway. She huffed, leaning back against her locker. Her head tipped back as she stared up at the various cracks in the ceiling. A smile crawled along her face, eyes shining brightly in relief. Not only was her secret still kept, but she no longer had to date Finn, or even _pretend_ to date him. She could just be Rachel. And it felt nice to just be her after pretending to be something else for so long.

The sound of shoes scuffing across the floor pulled her out of her thoughts. It was _that_ time of the day. But Rachel didn't have the energy it took to maintain eye contact with intense hazel today. Quinn's eyes crackled like a thunderstorm, a surge of depth in her eyes every time Rachel looked into them. Sometimes it looked like there was so much more to her than what she allowed everyone to see. But she was just so fucking unapproachable, it was annoying.

A hand tentatively tapped her shoulder and Rachel groaned in irritation, head lolling to the side and eyes being pressed against those damn hazel eyes she had been avoiding. She leapt back in surprise, putting some space between herself and Quinn as she collected herself. Rachel ran a shaky hand through her hair, clearing her throat. "Good morning, Quinn."

Her voice lacked its usual cordialness and if the furrow in Quinn's brow was indication, she noticed. "Hey." She shifted, hip cocking out to the side as she leaned against the locker. Rachel's gaze darted around them, not finding Santana or Brittany anywhere. "Does glee club meet today?"

Her attention snapped back to Quinn. She looked pretty today, especially so and Rachel couldn't help but wonder if she thought Quinn looked more beautiful than usual today because of the fact that she couldn't have her. Not that she actually had a chance with her before but with her stupidly playing cupid to Quinn because she wanted her back in glee club, and Finn, she had pretty much shot herself in the foot. She nodded, brushing her bangs back from her eyes so she could get a better look at the person in front of her. "Yes, this afternoon after school."

Quinn's lips ticked upwards just a fraction. "Thanks." She began to walk away when a hand wrapping around her wrist made her give pause. Rachel waited with bated breath as Quinn slowly turned around. Concentrated hazel eyes slid down her own arm to Rachel's hand wrapped around her wrist, and up Rachel's arm to wide, dark brown eyes.

Rachel licked her lips nervously. She released the grip she had on Quinn's wrist, her fingers curling into the palm of her hand as if attempting to keep the fleeting feel of soft, satiny skin in her grip. "I just wanted to ask for a favor," she whispered tremulously.

A fine eyebrow quirked at the request as Quinn turned towards her more fully. "I'm listening," she said evenly, not letting a single inflection creep into her voice.

"Well, you see," Rachel began. She looked down to her sweater, fidgeting with the hem.

"Look at me," Quinn barked.

Her gaze snapped up immediately. She was expecting to see a typical scowl on Quinn's face, but her normally pinched features, were completely smoothed out as she regarded Rachel openly without a hint of malice.

"I just—what I told you yesterday, not many people know about me," she said quietly, taking a step closer to make herself heard more clearly. It was difficult to maintain eye contact while talking about being gay, but she really didn't want to get yelled at again. "Please, Quinn, _please_ don't tell anyone; I want to keep it a secret."

"Why?"

Rachel stared at her incredulously. "You of all people know how much I get bullied," she answered frantically, voice pitching to a stage whisper. "I don't—I can't let people know; my own fathers don't even know. I can't get picked on more than I already do."

"Rachel, calm down," Quinn said quietly.

A deep, calming breath was instantly taken. The late bell rang, and, resigned to her fate, Rachel slumped back against the lockers, deciding that taking a few moments to gather herself was okay since she was already late for class. She watched sneakered feet take slow, measured steps until Quinn was at her side. The sound of a hand sliding along the locker beside her caught her attention. Then-then she realized—

"Hey, wait a minute." A sudden burst of hazel eyes and smooth, pale skin swam in her vision as she turned towards Quinn. When the hell did she get that close?

Rachel watched her lips move as Quinn asked, "What?"

"You…" she struggled to gather her thoughts. "You called me 'Rachel'."

Quinn stiffened. "That's your name. It's not a big deal."

But it _was_ a big deal, at least to Rachel. She smiled, head dipping with a faint blush to her cheeks.

"I'm assuming Finn knows about your little secret."

Rachel nodded, eyes still down, now locked on to how close hers and Quinn's shoes were. In all her time in high school, they had never been this close; Rachel could feel the beginnings of her body heat.

"How many other people know?"

"I would assume—"

"Rachel," Quinn intoned with a tone of voice that nearly resembled patience. "Look at me."

She tried her hardest not to swoon at the way Quinn said her name. That smoky, velvety voice wrapped around every letter in her name. It rolled off her tongue like a caress that proved relaxing and oddly stimulating. Rachel swallowed a lump down her throat, looking up to meet Quinn's gaze. "As far as I know, three other people know."

"Who are they?"

Rachel hazarded a step closer and Quinn's sharp gaze followed her movement, brow bunched in curiosity. "Kurt, Mercedes, and Tina."

Quinn scoffed. "You're trying to keep a secret, yet you tell two of the biggest gossip queens in the school?"

Her lips ticked up in mild amusement as she said, "Kurt guessed, okay? And he was on the phone with Mercedes when he did, who was on the phone with Tina and—" she gesticulated to show her confusion at the time. "It was a mess."

There was a quiet hum before Quinn pushed off the lockers, looking down the hallway before her gaze met Rachel's again. "I won't tell anyone," she finally said.

Rachel pushed out a relieved breath. Today was kind of looking awesome now. "Thank you."

Quinn shrugged. She looked at Rachel once more before walking down the hallway. "See you in glee."

She stood at her locker, watching Quinn walk down the hallway like a girl pining after her high school crush. "Bye, Quinn."

* * *

><p>Rachel tapped her pencil against the blank page of her chemistry notebook listlessly. It was hard to learn about the mole formula when her last encounter with Quinn kept playing back and forth in her mind. Quinn had been cordial. She had been—dare Rachel think it—<em>nice<em>. She didn't scowl once; she had almost smiled. She had said Rachel's name in a way Rachel had never heard anyone utter it before. It had sounded so intimate.

Then again, so did insults and threats when Quinn used that tone of voice, so _that_ was really nothing to go by.

But Rachel could feel her stomach tighten anyway as Quinn's voice entered her mind again. She was saying her name in that breathy voice over and over again. That voice sounded so commanding and dangerous. It made Rachel feel weak in the knees, those two syllables did more to her than making out with a guy ever could.

She slapped a hand to her forehead as that thought and thoughts of kissing Quinn collided into one until Quinn was uttering her name between kisses in her…_thoughts._ The hand on her face rubbed down roughly until she was cupping her chin in thought.

It wasn't a crush; it was just a heightened attraction.

Rachel shook her head.

* * *

><p>The thought of going to glee club left her apprehensive. She loved glee with all her heart, but having to share it with Quinn again was going to be an interesting change that had substantial potential to end badly considering Quinn knew her secret and Rachel would have to watch Quinn &amp; Finn 2.0 happen before her very eyes because she more or less caused it.<p>

She opened the door to the choir room and looked around the corner. Unsurprisingly, no one was there but Kurt, certainly not Quinn since Rachel often times arrived a few minutes early to prepare. She smiled slightly at the sight of Kurt and walked further inside. "Good afternoon, Kurt," she chirped brightly, determined to make the most of this situation. After all, Quinn and her friends rejoining glee club was doing her a favor in the long run.

Kurt looked up from the magazine perched precariously on the knee crossed over his leg. He smiled widely when he saw it was Rachel, closed the magazine and tossed it aside before skipping down the risers. Hands braced on both of Rachel's shoulders, Kurt looked at her excitedly as he said, "Girl, I am _so_ glad you finally fessed up about your relationship with Finn being over."

Startled, Rachel took a step back. It seemed Jacob's news traveled faster than she thought. "I didn't really have much choice," she grumbled, brow furrowing. "Someone tipped Jacob off about the break up. I assume it was Quinn—"

"It was me." His smile grew.

She blanched. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I saw the two of you all hugged up in glee two days ago," he explained as if it were obvious. "Now, Rachel, I don't know if Finn knows you're gay or not—"

"He does," she answered pointedly. Her mouth opened, a question on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't even know where to begin.

Kurt waved her off. "I was just softening the blow for the break up. Now everyone knows and you're free." He straightened his clothes almost absentmindedly. "Finn's free…"

Rachel watched the meticulous way he coiffed his hair and picked the lint off his clothes. "No," she said. "No, no, no, you did _not_ do this for me; you did this to make sure Finn was single. Kurt, I can't believe you!" she yelled incredulously. "You outed me—"

"As being a _single_ woman," he intoned deliberately. "Not as a lesbian."

"So, what!" She frowned up at him, crossing her arms across her chest. "And Finn isn't even gay."

"I'm sure I can convince him—"

"Doubt it—"

"—to be with me; I am a catch, Rachel Berry—"

"—I was a bigger one," she said triumphantly.

He smirked. "And now you're a gay one, Cherry Jones."

"I—" she bit her lip pensively, trying to pinpoint that name. "I don't—I'm not sure—"

"Of _course_ you wouldn't recognize a not-so-obscure reference to a Tony award winning lesbian actress," he scoffed.

Rachel took a step closer. "Wait, what's her name again? Cherry?"

Kurt frowned and began walking away, Rachel hot on his heels. "Can you compile a list of shows she was in?"

The rest of the club members began filing in as Rachel sat on the topmost row, writing down facts about this 'Cherry' person. "Oh, I _know_ her!" she exclaimed proudly after a moment. "She was in _Erin Brockovich_!" She continued to write down a list as Kurt named movies and was determined to watch some in her free time. Barbra would always be her number one, but a lesbian Tony award winning actress could easily make number two.

"Hi, Finn," she heard Kurt say in this breathy voice like he had ran a mile and her head popped up to see Finn walking into the choir room.

"Uh, hey, Kurt." Finn fidgeted awkwardly under Kurt's hawk like scrutiny and Rachel stuck her tongue out at Kurt. "Told you," she said lowly. She turned back to Finn with a tentative smile. She wasn't sure if things were okay with them, but she didn't want to let a girl come between them. Especially a girl she didn't have a chance with and shouldn't have been moping over anyway. "Hi, Finn."

Finn hesitated, before a soft, "Hey, Rach," was breathed into the air. He stared at her for a little while longer, then took a seat on the first row.

Once he was seated, Rachel turned back to Kurt. He scowled at her. "Don't make it so obvious," he gritted out in attempt to keep his voice down.

"I think the only one making it obvious is you," she whispered back. "Tipping off Jacob that I was single in order to make sure Finn and I were really over? Really?"

"Are these seats taken?" a silky voice asked unassumingly and Rachel looked up to find Quinn staring directly at her. The question didn't register right away because of the surprise of this situation weighing heavily in Rachel's mind. Quinn was keeping her promise. She was here in the choir room, in the flesh, with Santana and Brittany flanking her just like she had promised. _And_ she hadn't told anyone Rachel was gay. Damn, today was really awesome.

"N-no, no," she stammered once the question was finally able to permeate her brain over the surprise of having Quinn address her calmly, rejoin glee club, and keep her secret a secret all in one day. She gestured to the four empty seats down from her. "All of these are empty."

"Thanks." Quinn walked up the last riser and, to Rachel's surprise and heart attack all-in-one, sat down beside her. Rachel craned her neck to the side and gawked as Santana sat beside Quinn and Brittany sat beside Santana. She watched the three of them, completely untouchable, with their matching ponytails and red, black, and white Cheerio uniforms of invincibility. Brittany mashed her legs together and slanted to lean towards Santana whom crossed her legs at the ankles and slumped back against her seat as if this was the absolute last place on earth she wanted to be. Quinn crossed one toned thigh over the other and Rachel's face warmed as a red pleated skirt rode up, the slits parting to reveal more thigh than Rachel had ever seen.

She turned back to the front, a blush crawling along her cheeks as her eyes accidentally met Finn's. His eyes narrowed knowingly before he turned back around in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest. She sat there staring at the back of his head, willing her racing heart to calm down. She could feel the heat radiating from Quinn's body again and it made her want to crawl out of her skin. It was just an attraction. An attraction that was going to make the next two hours of glee club torture unless they had the chance to get up and sing and dance at least once so she could catch a break.

"'Sup, ladies?"

Rachel looked up as Puck settled along the back row. He sat his guitar down gently, eyes directly on Quinn. "'Sup, Q? Lookin' good today."

"Hey, Puck."

Rachel didn't want to seem bias, but Quinn sounded bored, if the listless sigh as she spoke was anything to go by. She turned back towards the front and away from the sight of Puck wiggling his eyebrows and looked down at Finn. They definitely needed to talk. Again. Damn it.

She heard a chair creak and clenched her eyes shut as she _felt_ Quinn leaning closer to her. "Have I missed anything?" Quinn whispered.

Rachel melted right there into the floorboards, gathering enough strength in the pile of goo she had become to murmur, "Nothing yet. We haven't started."

Quinn nodded and leaned back over in her seat. Rachel's eyes popped open in time to watch Quinn lean towards Santana and Brittany. Brittany leaned forward and Quinn whispered something that made Santana's head pop up and look towards Rachel. Their eyes met and Santana wore an amused smirk before she settled in the three girl huddle that was beside Rachel. They whispered some more and Brittany giggled before they all settled back. Rachel caught Quinn's eye, trying to find something there that hinted at what they were talking about, but Quinn's face had smoothed over to impassivity and she looked forward as Mr. Schuester walked into the room.

Rachel sat there, caught between confusion and offense. Were they making fun of her? Did Quinn tell them? Did the three top popular girls in the school know her secret, and, if so, what were they planning on doing with that knowledge?

"Woah!" Mr. Schuester exclaimed as he looked up at the topmost riser. "Quinn, Santana, and Brittany, we're glad to have you back!"

"What can I say?" Quinn replied. "Rachel can be very persuasive."

She said her name again in _that_ tone of voice again. Rachel crossed her legs primly, fidgeting until she clasped her hands together and wedged them between her legs.

Kurt leaned over towards her. "And _you_ call _me _obvious."


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

**A/N: **You guys are so amazing! Seriously, thank you; I get more and more reviews every chapter! I'm really glad you're enjoying it and I hope you continue to do so.

**A/N: **To those reading _**Ensnared **_I promise to update soon. It's just that fic is a lot more technical and planned than this one, so it takes longer to write. But I'm hoping to update before the week is out!

* * *

><p>"So, what, you're saying she has a crush on you now?" Finn asked with incredulity.<p>

"_No_!" Rachel protested. "I never said anything of the sort! I merely stated that _she_ was the one to sit beside _me_ and, therefore, you have no right to be upset with me!"

Finn pointed a finger at her. "_You_ were the one blushing and staring at her legs, Rachel! You said you didn't like her!"

"I _don't_!" she insisted, willing the heat away from her face she could feel rising as images of Quinn's thighs assaulted her brain again. They just looked so damn soft and strong and—

"What are you thinking about, Rachel?" Finn asked pointedly.

She sighed and slumped back against her bed. "I don't want to keep fighting with you about this, Finn."

Finn stared down at the contrast of his brown boots against Rachel's beige carpeted floors. "I don't want to keep fighting either," he mumbled.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do." She fidgeted with a loose string of fabric on the hem of her skirt, twirling it around her fingers. "It's not like I'm pursuing her and, if I were to, it isn't like she would say yes."

Finn nodded.

"I mean, you said yourself she isn't gay."

"She's not," he admitted.

Rachel took a deep breath, taking that blow to the gut in stride. Just as she always did. "Then I don't see a problem."

His head tilted towards the ceiling as if he couldn't even bear to look at her as he spoke. "The problem, Rachel, is that you like her."

She didn't respond. They had been back and forth over the subject of her feelings for Quinn nearly every day for a week now and she was sick of talking about it. Rachel had found that there was no conceivable way she could like Quinn; she didn't know anything about her other than the fact that she had the best set of genes Rachel had ever laid eyes on. Other than that, all she knew of Quinn was that she was a seemingly one dimensional, shallow bully. All she cared about was her popularity and, subsequently, she was willing to hurt anyone to gain more of it. How could Rachel fall for a girl like that? "I don't think you understand," she finally said.

Finn sighed in exasperation. "What don't I understand?"

She rubbed her lips together, trying to find a way to make him understand where she was coming from. That was when an idea struck her. "When you first met me, you didn't like me in that way, right?"

He mulled over the question for a moment. His hands found his hips as his eyes found the floor, travelling back approximately two months in his mind. "No, I was with Quinn and stuff."

Rachel amusedly recalled her surprise the day the two of them had been standing in line and she had been hitting on Finn—attracted to his talent and leading man potential. The fact that she was more attracted to Finn because he could sing and save the glee club she cherished with all her heart as opposed to how physically attractive he was should have tipped her off to her own sexuality months ago.

Then he had told her he was dating Quinn Fabray and Rachel's brain more or less short circuited. She had expressed her aghast with, 'Cheerleader Quinn Fabray? The president of the Celibacy Club?' and, as if trying to prove he could still get his mack on with the president of the Celibacy Club, Finn had followed up with, 'Yeah, but we totally still make out and stuff. One time I got to touch her butt. It was awesome.'

Rachel had stood there, unblinkingly for several seconds, a mixture of morose and intrigue shooting through her confusedly.

And if the way Finn was snapping his fingers in front of her now, she was doing it again. "Hey, you there?"

She shook away her thoughts, intrigued by her not-so-ancient blast from the past. "I—yes, I'm here, sorry." She cleared her throat, having the slight urge to ask Finn about how making out with Quinn was again but lacking the audacity to do so. "As I was saying, you didn't like me, right?" Finn nodded again and Rachel continued. "Okay, so, why didn't you like me?"

Finn opened his mouth to speak.

"And please," Rachel interrupted, "spare my sensitive ego and self-esteem."

He smiled lopsidedly, rearranging the words he was going to say and opening his mouth to speak again. "Because, well, you were," he winced, "a loser."

Rachel resisted the urge to roll her eyes at how shallow people could be, encouraging Finn to continue.

"And I hadn't really talked to you before but when I did, you were kinda creepy, so…" he trailed off when Rachel unconsciously began to scowl.

"Okay," she drawled in irritation, prompting with a hopeful lilt to her voice, "But once you got to know me?"

He smiled. "Once I got to know you…you're pretty cool, Rach."

Rachel echoed his smile, having the fleeting wish of having Quinn smile at her like that. "That's exactly my situation with Quinn," Rachel said. "I don't really know her and, therefore, I don't like her, like you didn't like me when you didn't know me on the level that you know me now."

Finn leaned back to rest on his hands, brow bunching in incomprehension. "But, she's Quinn." He tossed a sideways glance to Rachel. "Everybody likes her."

"Everyone either desires, envies, or fears her, Finn," Rachel corrected. "Since I don't feel any of those things for her—"

"She turns you on though," he chimed in. "That's desire."

She frowned. "True, but—"

"And you said desiring a girl is important to you if you wanted to be with one."

"B-but I also said I don't know if I'd want to be with said person!" she defended, angling her body to face him more fully. "Finn, I don't like her. How could I? She bullied me for—"

"For a couple of months," Finn said softly. "I get that, but from what you told me about glee club today, she was kinda nice."

Her eyes dropped to her pink comforter. "W-why are you doing this?" she asked quietly.

"I'm just trying to understand where you're coming from, Rachel. Because you're confusing me." He looked over at her. "And I think you're confusing yourself, too. Look, I kinda want Quinn again but if we're gonna keep arguing like this then I'll back off because you're a cool person and you're important to me." He grabbed her chin softly between his thumb and index finger, lifting to make her look at him. "But if I'm gonna back off then the least you can do is admit you like her."

Rachel looked away. "I'm physically attracted to her," she admitted.

Finn smiled. It was kinda hot, his two ex-girlfriends. "How does she make you feel?"

"Warm," she whispered. "Embarrassed, flustered, like I'm going to projectile vomit all of the contents in my stomach…infatuated."

His smile grew until she used 'infatuated'. "Wait…is that a good thing?"

Rachel giggled softly, feeling foolish and giddy and so damn scared. "It's a good thing," she said quietly.

"Oh, okay. I thought that was some sort of Victoria Secret perfume or something."

She frowned thoughtfully. "It probably is," she concluded.

"It'd probably smell really good," Finn said. He reached out to wrap an arm around her and tugged her closer until she rested against his chest. "It's okay to like her. She's actually cool once you get to know her."

"Really?" she asked hesitantly.

Finn nodded. "She's kinda like a nut you have to crack, you know?"

Rachel pulled back with a proud smile. "Did Finn Hudson just use a simile?"

He frowned. "What the hell is that?"

* * *

><p>"Sweetheart?" Leroy called over his shoulder as he heard the door open and close. His eyes never strayed from the dishes he was washing, knowing his daughter had come to an abrupt stop just behind him.<p>

Rachel stood behind him, seeing Finn and his momther pull out of the driveway through the mirror over the sink. His mom still wasn't comfortable with him driving. "Yes, daddy?"

"How was school?"

"It was fine," she chirped brightly.

"Are you sure?" he prodded. "You've been moping around for the past week." He took his hands out of the water, turning to the towel to his left and drying his hands off with a wry smile. "Your father is worried."

Her shoulders slumped as Leroy's critical gaze fell on her, assessing her very being before flashing a warm smile. "If you're having issues with school work then—"

"It's not that," she nearly whined. "Though…geometry is a little hard," she admitted with a grumble. She sighed at herself and rested against the counter. She wanted to tell her fathers badly, but she was still adjusting. And though she knew her fathers wouldn't judge her; it just felt weird going to them and telling them she was gay when up until this point, the biggest problem she had come to them with was getting slushie stains in her training bras.

Leroy's gaze darkened as he took a step closer. "Your peers aren't still bullying you, are they?"

To her own surprise, Rachel found herself shaking her head. She had gone this entire week without getting slushied or being taunted—if Quinn heckling her about her not-so-secret-anymore secret didn't count. "Lately they seem to be leaving me alone."

His head tilted curiously. "Is this about Finn and your breakup? He comes over here an awful lot now and sometimes when leaves you're upset."

"There is no _this_, daddy," Rachel claimed in exasperation. "I'm fine, really. And Finn hasn't done anything."

"You know, he comes over much more now than he did when the two of you were together," he observed.

Rachel smiled nervously. "We were able to be mature enough to maintain a healthy friendship in which we enjoy each other's company."

"More than you did when the two of you were together?" Leroy asked suspiciously.

"W-we're just really better off as friends," she stammered.

"Hmm." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully with a small grin. "You know, the same thing happened with me in college with an ex-girlfriend once."

Suspicion crept into her mind but it couldn't beat out her curiosity. "How did that go?"

His grin widened, gaining amusement. "Have you ever heard of a fag-hag?"

"Daddy!" Rachel exclaimed, bursting into a fit of giggles.

"Nah, I'm just kidding," he said, chuckling at his own joke. He sobered up, eyes losing focus as if recalling an old memory. "We became the best of friends."

Rachel smiled. "Are you guys still friends?"

"Every once in a while we'll call each other. You know how life is. People come and go, the circle of life and all that."

She nodded, leaning against the counter more fully. "So…you found out you were gay in college?" she asked.

Leroy waved the question. "Pfft, no. I always knew."

"Then why were you dating a woman?" she asked in confusion.

"Things weren't like how they are today, sweetheart," he said softly. "People couldn't be out of the closet twenty years ago like they can now."

"People can't even be out of the closet _now_," Rachel grumbled. "At least not in Lima."

Leroy took a step closer. "But that doesn't apply to you, right?"

Rachel clamped a hand over her mouth, facing warming in embarrassment. She had unknowingly said too much, and, flashing a disarming smile, she decided to steer the conversation to safer waters. "In other, more exciting news: I managed to get our glee club enough members to qualify all by myself!" she announced giddily.

He smiled, eyes dipping as he nodded to himself. Then he looked back up at Rachel, smile stretching across his face as he stepped closer and hugged her. "Congratulations, baby girl," he murmured. "I know how important this was to you."

"_Is_, daddy," she said pointedly. "Just because we've managed to qualify for Sectionals doesn't mean we'll actually win. Though, my fingers are crossed."

"Well, you know your father and I will be there for you," he told her, kissing the top of her head. "We'll _always_ be there for you no matter what. You know that, right?"

There was a sudden severity to his voice that Rachel couldn't comprehend. But as his protective hold tightened around her, she was swept up in his warmth and found she didn't really mind. "I know, daddy."

* * *

><p>She was wearing a lavender ruffle top and a very fall festive sweater vest today. She didn't want to toot her own horn, but she looked pretty damn cute if she had to say so herself. It was a new day, a new week, a new Rachel. She felt confident, happy, even if a little confused about her feelings. But she didn't have to <em>always<em> think about her feelings—even though she always did. But there were times like now when she could think of glee club and perfecting a setlist in advance for Sectionals with Mr. Schuester because one can never be too prepared.

She spun her combination into her locker and it opened with a loud clang of victory. She swapped her books from last class for the books she would need for her next class.

Kurt saddled up beside her locker and she smiled widely, swiping lip gloss across her lips should she run into Quinn today—walking into her crush with chapped lips was _not_ the way to go and definitely not the way to woo her. Not that Rachel was _trying_ but if she was…there were certainly more ways to do it that were actually effective. "Good morning, Kurt!"

Rachel closed her locker, leaning back against it with her head held high and her books clutched tightly to her chest.

"Well, well, well, someone woke up on the dashing side of the bed this morning," Kurt congratulated. "Though, I only say dashing because of your lip gloss. So shiny." He looked down at her clothes with a speculative frown. "Your wardrobe still leaves a lot to be desired."

Rachel flipped her hair over one shoulder with an eyeroll. "Even _you_ can't ruin my day, Kurt."

His lips pursed in curiosity. "And why's that?"

She smiled, close lipped and mischievous. "I finally have a crush on someone," she said very quietly. "And she's a _girl_!" Her cheeks felt warm and she was smiling so wide she couldn't feel her face. So what if Quinn never returned her affections? It felt so liberating to finally allow herself to have feelings for another girl.

Kurt nodded, not really seeing the surprise of the situation. "Yeah, Quinn. Duh."

Rachel scowled at his lack luster reply. "Forgive me if _some_ of us didn't have crushes on _some_ _person_ since the first day of school."

"The second he threw me into that dumpster I said to myself: he's the one," Kurt sighed in a faux dreamy voice that made Rachel laugh. "We're pathetic, aren't we?"

She brought her hand up and pinched her thumb and index finger together. "Just a little."

Kurt stuck his arm out and Rachel interlocked hers with his. They smiled at each other, reveling in their similarity and the fact that they no longer felt alone as they strolled down the hallway. "So, I was thinking," Kurt began. "Instead of having an _actual_ LGBT club where we talk about hate crimes and oppression, why don't we just have girls nights where we talk about our crushes and the delusional ways we think their gazes smolder as they look at us from across the room."

"While I do enjoy a rousing controversial debate on societal issues—especially ones that are close to me such as adoption and now gay rights," Rachel hedged, feeling like a queen as they walked in the _middle_ of the hallway. Sure, no one noticed them—she got noticed a lot less now that she and Finn weren't together anymore, but it still felt like the grass was much greener here. "I wouldn't mind talking about our crushes." She had a crush. She had a crush who was a _girl_. Her stomach fluttered at the thought.

She chuckled merrily, her gaze falling from the smile on Kurt's face to the crowded hallway. She immediately froze in place when she saw Noah Puckerman walking down the hallway. It wasn't the sight of him that made her freeze. It was what he was carrying. A jumbo cup of what Rachel already knew was a slushie rested surely in his grasp as he barreled down the hallway. She stopped immediately and Kurt jerked to a halt when she did. "What's the problem?" he whispered.

Rachel gulped audibly in the loud hallway, suddenly feeling very claustrophobic with the number of people crawling in the hallway trying to get to class. Kurt looked up towards where her field of vision was and all color drained from his face. "This scarf is pashmina," he whispered in fear. His arm slipped from hers as he slowly started backing away. Rachel didn't even notice he was leaving until she whipped around to find him. "Where are you going?" she asked.

He smiled loosely. "Take this hit for me?" he asked. "This is a brand new outfit, Rachel. I'll pay you back!"

"Kurt, get back here!" she hissed as he practically ran down the hallway.

Rachel turned back around, heart palpitating as Puck stood in front of her. She walked backwards until she felt a locker behind her, trying to keep her business from the middle of the hallway in fear of people noticing and crowding to only further add to her embarrassment. "I'm surprised you didn't just throw it at me while my back was turned," she couldn't help but say snidely.

Puck shrugged, following her to the locker. "I did that to you once and I kinda felt bad. Plus, we're in glee together and I don't want hard feelings."

Her jaw dropped in shock. "If you didn't want hard feelings, then you wouldn't do this to me!"

"It's the way it has to be, babe. Look, you're kinda hot, so I'll spare you the anticipation." He lifted the cup, pulling his arm back like a trigger.

"_Hey_!" Rachel heard someone indignantly yell.

She stiffened, already knowing who the person was and nearly cried at her own fate. Today had been such a good day up until this point. _Why_ did Quinn have to ruin it by walking down the hallway to partake in this already embarrassing incident? And after Rachel had accepted the feelings she had for her.

Puck paused, turning towards that voice. Quinn came down the hallway in a light jog, resting just in front of Puck. She didn't even spare a glance in Rachel's direction. "What do you think you're doing?" she growled tightly. Her ponytail gave one more bounce to the side from the momentum of her jog before it fell neatly in place and Rachel was really starting to wonder how someone could be so perfect. Surely Quinn had _some_ flaws aside from being mean.

Puck held up the cup with what Rachel could only call a _duh_ expression on his face. "What's it look like?" His eyes traced down her body lewdly. "You look hot today, by the way."

Quinn scoffed with a roll of her eyes. Then—Rachel noted with interest—the scowl on Quinn's face slipped into a sultry smirk that awakened something in her. Quinn took a step closer to Puck, prying the cup out of his hand and hooking her arm around his. "Walk me to class," she demanded.

His lips curved upwards into a smug smile. "Sure."

Rachel watched helplessly as they walked down the hallway. She thought her heart had stopped working at the sight she couldn't tear her eyes away from. Then Quinn turned to look at her over her left shoulder and her heart lurched in her chest, threatening to jump out and follow Quinn all the way down the hallway.

And that delusional smoldering gaze Kurt was talking about earlier? Rachel was pretty positive that was the look Quinn was giving her.

Then again, maybe she really _was_ delusional.

* * *

><p>When she walked into glee club, she sat on the front row. She wasn't sure what was going on with her and Quinn—if there was even something going on at all—but it was best not to play with fire. Finn sat down beside her after an awkward greeting with Kurt and Rachel held her amusement, smiling at him. "Hi, Finn."<p>

"Hey, Rach." He turned towards her with a smile of his own. "Puck told me he didn't slushie you today. That's awesome."

Her smile tightened just a fraction at that tidbit of information going around the popular kids circle. "W-what was the whole story exactly?"

He shrugged. "He said he was going to slushie you. You were giving him longwinded rants—"

"I most certainly was not!" she protested.

Finn laughed. "Anyway, then he said Quinn stopped him in the hallway—"

Rachel held her breath.

"—and that she asked him to walk her to class." He frowned. "He's really trying to get into her pants. Or…up her skirt or whatever it's called when girls wear skirts."

Rachel pouted morosely. "Why does he want her so badly?" She paused, shrugging a shoulder. "Though, granted, I can understand."

Finn rolled his eyes. "Because he's already had sex with like, all the Cheerios. And plus, Quinn's a virgin so that's like, a thousand hot points added to that."

And speak of the devil, Quinn, Santana, and Brittany walked inside. Rachel watched the three of them, leaning towards Finn. "He even had sex with Santana and Brittany?" she asked as discretely as she could, noting for the first time how the two in question were linked at the pinkies. She had never really noticed them below the head before other than their Cheerios uniform. They were…really close, pressed tightly together in a way that could possibly pass as friends but intrigued Rachel regardless.

"Yep," Finn told her as Rachel's gaze slid to Quinn. She could never keep her eyes away for long. Then her gaze wandered down to those thighs she had seen up close and personal yesterday. They flexed with every step Quinn took. When she looked back up, she caught hazel eyes watching her intently.

Face flaming, Rachel looked forward just as Quinn sauntered past her, the pleats of her skirt brushing along Rachel's hip. She shivered. Santana and Brittany followed after, never once breaking their contact and Rachel made a mental note to watch out for that from now on.

Mr. Schuester walked in shortly after, greeting the classroom. He walked over to the board and wrote one word on it.

_Sectionals._

He turned back to the room with a wide smile. "Everyone, thanks to Rachel here," he nodded towards her and Rachel preened herself, turning to the group with a wide smile as Mr. Schuester continued, "I was able to sign us up for Sectionals today!"

Everyone clapped and hollered excitedly. Tina leaned down from the second row and rubbed her shoulder, Kurt gave her a thumbs up and Mercedes gave her a smile. Finn engulfed her from behind in a bear hug.

Rachel relished in the attention. She quickly disentangled herself from Finn and took center stage though no one invited her to make a speech.

"Fellow glee clubbers, it was my esteemed pleasure to ensure that New Directions had a spot to compete for Sectionals. I know that if we all work hard and together, and, most importantly, let me shine when I need to, we can win this thing!"

She relished everyone's eyes on her.

…And the slow way Quinn crossed her legs.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

* * *

><p>Rachel scowled at the C- she received on her geometry quiz. She shoved the paper into the nearest folder she could find in her bag crankily. It wasn't her fault that math wasn't her strongest subject. Did teachers really have to treat her cruelly enough to give her <em>less<em> than _satisfactory_ on an assignment?

Besides, it wasn't easy to learn a subject she didn't even like when her brain was working extra hard over analyzing the way Quinn had been looking at her since the day she found out Rachel was gay. She didn't want to be delusional, but there was something…different about the way Quinn looked at her. The looks directed at her contained less scorn and more of a mild curiosity. But what the hell Quinn was curious about, Rachel couldn't be sure.

And what was even weirder was the fact that Quinn had fought her tooth and nail to get her to break up with Finn and now that they were finally over, Quinn wasn't even pursuing him. So, what was the point of trying to break them up anyway?

The bell rang and Rachel gratefully slid out of her seat, collecting her books. She walked towards her locker and practically shoved her math textbook inside, slamming it shut with a loud huff. She heard a mocking chuckle towards her left and turned to see Quinn sauntering towards her. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment and excitement as butterflies danced around her lower stomach.

Quinn came to a stop a couple feet in front of her. She had a pink binder gripped in her hands, resting against the front of her skirt and Rachel couldn't help if her gaze briefly dropped there before popping back up. She was really going to have to learn to be more discrete, but she really didn't know anyone to learn it from. Finn was always obvious when he was checking her out, as well as when he was checking out other girls.

Quinn wasn't smiling but she wasn't scowling either so Rachel took it as a win. "What did that locker ever do to you?" Quinn asked in a voice Rachel had never heard before. It may have been amusement.

She rolled her eyes at her locker and at the fact that Quinn seemed to always catch her when she was at her worst. She looked down as she muttered petulantly, "I received a less than—"

"What have I said about making eye contact?" Quinn asked rhetorically as she took a step closer.

Rachel gasped quietly, looking up and then looking _away_ because it was starting to become unnerving, the effect Quinn had on her body. Why did everything she said have to sound so intimate? Quinn talked as if they were the only people in the hallway. And Rachel wished they _were_ the only two people in this hallway because then she would do…absolutely nothing.

Probably run.

Run screaming, actually.

She forced herself to meet Quinn's eyes with a lopsided smile at how ridiculous her thoughts were. "I practically failed my math test."

A blonde eyebrow rose in muted surprise. "I thought you were smart, Berry?"

"I _am_," Rachel replied haughtily, resisting the urge to fold her arms, though her chin jutted out pridefully regardless.

Quinn, however, _did_ fold her arms, rolling her eyes, but Rachel could see amusement sparkling through them now that they were a little closer. "Fine, then what grade did you get?"

She faltered at the question. Then frowned at Quinn for rudely asking such a personal question. "I received a C," she said as faux confidently as possible.

"A 'C'?"

"Minus," Rachel grumbled. "A 'C' minus."

Quinn chuckled quietly, more amusement than outright mockery this time. "You suck at math, Berry."

It put a damper on things for Rachel that she was back to being last named by Quinn. But the balance tipped back over to the good side because here they were, in the hallway, talking like…like friends. She felt her heart pound at the thought of actually having the chance to be friends with the girl she had a crush on.

She watched the way Quinn's eyebrows drew together in thought. She looked as if she was having a silent debate in her head before she finally focused back on Rachel again. "Sometimes I tutor Santana and Brittany in geometry because…they suck," she stated plainly and Rachel giggled. "They get distracted." Rachel got hung up on the word 'distracted' being used in relation to Santana and Brittany. What were they distracted by—each other? And if they were, what did that mean? She must have made a face that Quinn could clearly decipher because she cleared her throat and continued. "Anyway, since I tutor them most days after school at my house I could probably tutor you, too. If you wanted."

If she wanted? _If_ she _wanted_? Rachel Berry wanted a lot of things from one Quinn Fabray but she certainly had no qualms with starting with tutoring.

However, the more logical side flared up inside of her as she questioned Quinn's motives. Quinn knew she was gay and had been acting cordial towards her ever since. Was this a game? Rachel couldn't really decide if this was some trick to play heckle the homo or if Quinn was genuinely offering her services. And if she was, why? Rachel couldn't think of a thing she had that Quinn would want, so _why_ was she being so nice all of a sudden? Was Quinn trying to cozy up to her in an attempt to gain pointers on how to get Finn back? Or…

She didn't even allow herself to finish that thought because there was _no_ _way_ Quinn felt that way towards her.

"I'm waiting for an answer," Quinn replied, only having the slightest bit of impatience in her voice.

Rachel licked her lips nervously, taking a tentative step closer. "Are you really offering your tutoring services?"

Quinn looked at her strangely. "What else would I offer?" Her tone of voice had lowered just slightly and settled warmly in Rachel's belly.

"I just want to be sure t-that this isn't a prank or some ruse to make fun of me because—"

"Rachel," Quinn said and right there Rachel knew she was a goner, "you suck at math, I offered to tutor you. That's all that's happening." There was a certain finality to her words punctuated by the way she paused after every word in her last sentence as if every word had a period behind it.

Her words soaked in pretty clearly and Rachel nodded, not sure if that helped ease her nerves or not. "When will you be tutoring me?"

Quinn shrugged. "Today after glee, tomorrow after my Cheerios practice, whichever."

"Yes, okay," Rachel said softly. "May I have a day to think it over?"

"It's not like I asked you on a date, but sure. Think it over." There was a barely there smile that tugged the corners of her lips up and Rachel stared at it briefly.

"Anyway, I have class. See you later." It always sounded like a promise to Rachel's ears. Quinn walked past her; they brushed softly and Rachel felt warmth shoot up her arm as she turned around and leaned back against her locker to watch her crush walk away.

* * *

><p>She had petitioned halfway through first semester last year to have a vegan station set up in the cafeteria for people like her that valued the life of animals and did not wish to harm them for her own gain.<p>

What did she get? A fucking salad bar.

She stared hatefully at the dry salad on her plate, dropping her fork.

Kurt smiled in amusement. "You'd be better off just switching to meat like the rest of us."

Rachel eyed his burger in disgust. "Have you _seen_ a video of how they slaughter cows?"

He blinked rapidly. "No?"

She forked around her plate, picking at the wilted lettuce leaves that felt rubbery to the touch. Luckily though, she came prepared. She grabbed her bag on the seat beside her and fished out her lunchbox as Kurt kept sweeping his gaze over the same general area, ogling the jocks as discreetly as he could.

The jocks and popular kids all sat towards the back of the cafeteria. There were three tables that all normally sat side by side, yet sometime towards the beginning of the year a few of the football players combined all the tables into one giant table of aesthetically pleasing people that placed judgement on the entire cafeteria. It took a brave soul to sit at one of the tables right in front of the popular kids' table. The person would either get talked about relentlessly by the catty cheerleaders or driven away by the football or basketball players. Towards the very end of the table were the hockey players and there was barely any interaction between them and the rest of the people.

And in the very middle? The girl who had stolen Rachel's heart herself. She was currently laughing at something that was probably mean and shouldn't have been funny at all. Santana was to her left and Brittany was beside Santana; they were sharing a plate of fries, smiling and giggling as a long, slender strip of deep-fried potato dangled provocatively between their lips.

Rachel didn't even know potatoes _could_ be provocative, but those two were surely proving they could.

She wondered if she and Quinn could be like this. Hypothetically, of course. If they could be so seemingly in sync with each other's bodies as Santana and Brittany were. It was oddly beautiful to watch.

"I wonder if I should join the football team," Kurt muttered as he watched Finn walk to the jock table from the food line. "Maybe Finn likes strong, buff boys."

Rachel made an amused sound in the back of her throat. "I don't think Finn likes boys at all."

"Rachel," he whined. "We're in our delusional bubble remember?"

She remembered, but she didn't want to be delusional. She watched Finn smile at Quinn before he took a seat. Then Puck came down the row flirting with every Cheerio before bending down to kiss Quinn on the cheek. She scowled and swatted him away. Rachel smiled, ducking her head sheepishly. That made her ridiculously happy in a weird way. She pulled out her sandwich and took a bite, chewing as she mulled over Quinn's offer to tutor her. In theory it sounded like a simple cut and dry offer, but this was Quinn after all and though she was starting to be nice, Rachel wasn't fully convinced.

"I have something to tell you," she told Kurt quietly.

He turned around from the jocks table, smiling widely. "I think I'm going to join the football team."

"That's wonderful," she replied distractedly. "Quinn invited me over her house to tutor me in geometry."

"_What_?" he hissed with wide eyes. "You've infiltrated the system _already_? You work fast, Rachel."

"What does that mean?"

"That you got past her defenses pretty quic—"

"No, not that." She leaned forward in her seat. "What does it mean that she wants me over her house?"

Kurt laughed. "That you need help in geometry? Honestly, Rachel, I wouldn't read too much into it. It wasn't like she was coming on to you."

"I know that," she griped. "I'm just nervous. This could be entrapment, Kurt," she stage whispered. "She could be leading me to her house and-and—"

"And what, drama queen?" he quipped. "What's she gonna do—slushie you in her house for only her to see? That's better than having the entire school see it like always."

Rachel stared down at the half eaten sandwich with the edges cut off resting on a pristine white napkin. "Santana and Brittany are going to be there, too."

He winced at the situation she was about to find herself in. "If I were you, I'd wear a helmet and make sure your cell is fully charged in case of emergency."

She looked at him in confusion. "What's a helmet going to do?"

"Protect a vital organ."

Rachel slumped back in her seat, frowning at the sandwich she didn't want anymore. Sure, a helmet was going to protect her brain but what the hell was going to protect her heart? Her eyes floated over to where Quinn was flashing a megawatt smile that melted her on the spot.

Her curiosity was starting to win out.

* * *

><p>She was very distracted today in glee and by the way people were scowling at her, they knew it. There was just so much indecision in her and every few seconds she would find Quinn staring at her with some inscrutable expression that made her actually want to throw caution to the wind and go to her house just to get some fucking insight.<p>

The final straw for her was when she didn't move two steps to the left and clap in time and Finn ended up squashing her foot. She winced, biting her lip to keep the yelp of pain that was shooting up her throat at bay.

"Shit, sorry!"

She hopped on her good foot as stabbing pain shot through her other one. "It's all right," gurgled unconvincingly from her mouth. A Cheerio clad body took hesitant steps towards her and Rachel managed to look up to see a sympathetic fraught expression on Quinn's face though she didn't move any closer.

Finn reached for her arm. "I got this." Before Rachel knew it, she was being hauled into the air like a sack of potatoes (they seemed to be a recurring theme today) and carried in Finn's arms bridal style. "I can take you to the nurse. See if your toes are broken."

"No, Finn, I'm fine, really."

"My mom says I have sharp toes."

Rachel cringed in sympathy for Finn's mother.

"We'll be right back, Mr. Schue."

Mr. Schuester watched from the sidelines, rubbing the creases in his forehead. "Feel better, Rachel."

"I feel better now," she grumbled, eyes on Quinn as she was carried out the door.

"Well, I'm just making sure," Finn told her. He looked down at her strangely as they walked down the hallway. "You used to brag about how you were this awesome dancer that won all these competitions and stuff."

"I _did_," Rachel assured. "You've seen the trophies at my house."

"Then what's wrong with you? You love glee and you're never distracted when you walk in the choir room."

Rachel was about to respond, but they had crossed the threshold into the nurse's office already and the nurse was standing to help in an instant. She looked over to find the nurse smiling at her. "Rachel Berry, my favorite student."

She beamed back at the woman and was led towards a room with beds in it. Finn sat her down on the nearest bed and she suddenly felt foolish for taking up everyone's time like this.

The nurse sat down on the other side of the bed, hand automatically flattening against Rachel's forehead to check for fever. "What's wrong today, Rachel?"

"Umm," Finn shifted where he stood in embarrassment, jamming his hands into his pockets. "I kinda broke Rachel's toes."

"They're not broken!" Rachel cried. "He stepped on my foot and I was, admittedly, rendered immobile for a few moments, but I am perfectly fine now, Mrs. Smith."

Mrs. Smith smiled fondly at the two of them. "Glad to see you two are still doing well."

Rachel ducked her head, not having the heart to tell the poor old woman that she and Finn weren't together anymore. Finn half smiled but it was gone as quickly as it showed up.

"How about I check for myself then we can end this debate about whether or not your toes are broken?"

She nodded and Finn took her shoe off, wincing at how red her toes were. "I sure did a number on you."

Rachel rolled her eyes.

Finn pulled up a seat and sat down beside the bed, scooting closer. "So, what were you all distracted about in glee? I could probably guess though."

She smiled, then cried out in pain at the first amount of pressure on her toes. She took a deep breath. "Quinn wants me to go over her house tomorrow so she can tutor me in geometry," she breathed, flinching as Mrs. Smith cleared one toe and moved towards the next.

"That's a good thing right—cause you lik—"

Rachel scrambled to clamp a hand over his mouth, glaring at him then shifting her eyes to the nurse at the other end of the bed. She could feel him smile sheepishly against her hand and removed it, laying back against the bed once more. "I don't know if it's a good thing," she said softly. "I've been thinking about it all day, and, I don't know, what if she's mean?"

Finn stared down at the bed thoughtfully with the same face Santana always said always makes him look like a constipated baby. And it kind of did but Rachel found it endearing anyway. "Yeah, but, what if she's not?"

Rachel swallowed thickly. "I-I don't know. You said she wasn't—"

"She's not," he said carefully. "But why would she invite you if she wasn't? Because she knows you are."

"Maybe she's trying to be friendly?" she asked, not sure if she was hoping Finn would squash that thought or not because she'd _love_ for Quinn to be interested in her _that_ _way_, but was she ready for that? Part of the glory of liking Quinn was not having to face inevitable rejection because Quinn wasn't gay and, therefore, Rachel didn't have to spill her heart out to her. But if-if Quinn felt the same way…

"I think you should go," Finn said, sounding as supportive as he possibly could. "Worst case scenario is she's not…right?"

"Maybe…" Rachel hedged, biting her lip in uncertainty.

Her shoe was slipped back on her foot and Rachel pulled her attention away from Finn to look at the nurse. "Is everything all right?"

Mrs. Smith nodded with a smile. "Everything's fine. Just some light swelling and bruising. I would walk on it as softly as possible for the rest of the day. No running. I can get you an ace bandage if you want."

"That won't be necessary, Mrs. Smith, but thank you."

Finn hoisted her out of bed and gingerly placed her on her feet. Mrs. Smith smiled. "Such adoring children."

Rachel chuckled on the inside at this situation and walked with Finn out into the hallway. "What now?" he asked.

She looked at him disbelievingly. "We have approximately ten minutes of glee left. I think we should hurry up and get there."

He groaned in annoyance, trailing behind her.

When they made it the choir room, Quinn, Santana, and Brittany were walking towards the door. Rachel stood directly in their path, Finn behind her looking nervous as he stared at Santana's narrowing eyes. "Where are you going?" Rachel asked the group though she was staring at Quinn.

"Mani-pedis, Man Hands. You heard of 'em?" Santana asked brusquely. Quinn rolled her eyes to the ceiling, stepping forward and subtly in front of Santana. Santana huffed and grumbled under her breath, busying herself with mumbling with Brittany about who knows what. Rachel's eyes shot from the two of them to Quinn.

She shrugged. "My mom picked us up early." She walked closer. Rachel was put in the odd situation of either moving aside and letting her pass or standing there and ending up with the length of Quinn's body pressed against hers. Though the latter made her heart race, she managed to scoot to the side and allow Quinn and her friends to walk by. "Are you coming to my house or not?" Quinn asked as she kept walking down the hallway.

Rachel scurried out into the hallway, hesitating before answering. "I'll be there tomorrow at six sharp!"

Quinn continued walking down the hallway without a response and Rachel watched for a few seconds more, but ultimately went back into the choir room to make the most of her last five minutes.

Yeah, Quinn was awesome, but sometimes Rachel had to prioritize.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

* * *

><p>"I can do this," Rachel whispered to herself as she stood outside of Quinn's home. More like a mansion. Rachel didn't know what she had been expecting but she was only on the outside looking in and already the house had exceeded her expectations. She nervously looked back to her fathers in the car, having half a mind to jump back in and beg them to drive her home. Her anxiety was spiking at the thought of being in this spacious house with the three most popular girls in school. This was the kind of thing a <em>Lifetime<em> movie was made of. And those always ended pretty sadly.

She waved bye to her fathers though she knew as caring as they were, they weren't going to leave until they knew she was safely in the house. Funny thing was, being in the house didn't necessarily equate to safety. Her hand rose hesitantly to knock on the door. She looked towards her fathers one more time then looked back at the door, waiting patiently for Quinn to answer.

The door opened after a few moments and Quinn stood at the threshold. She was smiling. A legit, megawatt smile that Rachel had seen her flash just a day prior, wishing it had been directed at her. Only this time, it _was_ and she _swooned_ right then and there, forgetting her own anxieties for the moment. "You came," Quinn greeted. For once she wasn't wearing her Cheerios issued ponytail and her hair, perfectly curled and styled, hung around her shoulders and ran down her back in gentle waves. She looked stunning, like an angel smiling down upon Rachel.

Rachel cleared her throat, tightening her hold around the strap of her bag. "Hi," she said around a small, careful smile. She shrugged a little, lifting up her school bag as if it held all of her explanations. "You said you'd tutor me, so…"

Quinn was still smiling and it was so weird and endearing. "Because you suck a math."

Rachel's smile widened, her head dipping sheepishly. "Because I suck at math."

Quinn took a step back, eyebrows rising as she allowed Rachel inside. Rachel waved goodbye to her fathers, adhering to her fate and walked inside the Fabray house. Her eyes instantly roved around what she saw of the house right now. She was in a narrow hallway with a coat rack and a small table with a set of keys on it. She stared up at the chandelier that reflected light and shadows against the wall, unbuttoning her coat. When she looked back down, Quinn was staring at her and she smiled shyly, taking her coat off. Quinn stuck her hand out for it and Rachel handed it to her, watching her put it on the rack. "Thank you," she said nervously.

Quinn shrugged. "Santana and Brittany are in the living room." She walked ahead and Rachel followed behind, walking under an archway and into the main part of the house. They were passing a massive kitchen when Rachel took the time to allow her wandering eyes to dip away from long blonde locks. Quinn had on a tight, fitted white short sleeved shirt that showed all of her curves and Rachel ran her eyes down them until she saw the shortest pair of red shorts in the universe attached to Quinn like a second skin. Her eyes ran down pale thighs flexing with every step Quinn took and down to her socked feet. Her heart beat faster as she ran her eyes back up every curve Quinn had to offer before once more staring at the back of her head. She could feel her face warming over.

They reached the threshold of the living room and Quinn spun around abruptly. Rachel reared back in surprise of almost bumping into her. Quinn smiled amusedly down at her. "I told them to be nice," was all she said before she turned back around and walked into the living room. Rachel followed nervously behind her. To their left were Santana and Brittany sitting together on the couch watching TV. Santana turned towards her with a thoughtful frown. "You actually came, Berry?" Her eyes flicked to Quinn and she smiled mockingly. "I can't believe this."

"Hi, Rachel," Brittany chirped with a smile, her head popping up from Santana's shoulder.

Rachel gave a small wave. "Hi, Brittany, Santana. I hope you both are doing well."

Brittany nodded and Santana waved her hand as if Rachel was an annoying fly buzzing around her. Quinn drew in a deep breath, loud and purposeful before clasping her hands together in front of her. "What do you guys want to do first?" she asked. "Study or watch a movie?"

Rachel blinked in confusion. She had had no idea movies were in the plan. "I thought we were only going to study," she said confusedly.

"I choose movies first," Santana said.

Rachel panicked. She really needed to know this geometry. But more importantly, she really needed to not spend time alone with all three of them together. "But—"

"I want to watch _Up_," Quinn said.

"_The_ _Hangover_ is funnier," Santana told her.

"I really want to watch the movie about the blue men," Brittany said. "_Aliens_?"

"_Avatar_, B," Santana said warmly. Rachel hadn't even known Santana was capable of speaking with so much affection. Could Quinn be that nice to someone she cared about? The first thing that came to Rachel's mind was the smile she just received no more than ten minutes ago and how genuine it looked. "And it hasn't come out yet. Those were only previews you've been seeing."

Brittany pouted, folding her arms. "Then I don't have a choice."

"You like _D.E.B.S._," Santana offered.

Rachel blinked in surprise. Definitely lesbians.

Brittany's smile widened. "That's what I choose."

Rachel bit her lip nervously, stepping towards Quinn. "I really need to study."

Quinn offered an apologetic smile. "I'll help you, I promise. I hang out with these guys all the time and I still manage to stay on honor roll. I'll teach you geometry. But first, you have to choose which movie to watch between mine, Santana's, and Brittany's."

This version of Quinn, away from school and in her own home seemed so much more relaxed and _kind_ than any version of Quinn Rachel had ever seen. She noticed that Quinn was so much prettier, _beautiful_ when she was nice and smiling genuinely instead of cruelly.

They all looked at her expectantly and it felt good to have the popular girls practically eating out of the palm of her hands. Though the only thing she had to offer was the fate of the next two hours of their lives. But it was still a heady feeling. "_Up_?" she suggested with a light shrug.

Santana groaned. "Ugh, you're lame."

Quinn frowned. "No, she's not; she's awesome." She froze immediately after she said it. Santana snickered. Quinn's spine straightened as she turned away from the group, her nose lifted in the air, pridefully as the tips of her ears burned red. Rachel smiled at the fact that she was too prideful to take back what she said and admit to the faux pas; Quinn thought she was awesome, even for one shining moment of glory.

Quinn bent at her hips to place the DVD into the DVD player and Rachel nearly stumbled to sit at the very end of the couch, eyes on Quinn. Her red shorts rose daringly up the backs of her thighs and her calves flexed to show defined muscle. Rachel's tongue darted out to trace over her lower lip as her gaze ran up taut thighs. She forced herself to look away, taking a deep breath. The couch dipped to her left and she looked over to find Quinn settling in between her and Santana. Rachel was hyper aware of every place they were touching. Their thighs were pressed tightly together, they were shoulder to shoulder and each time Quinn would wiggle to find better placement her right hip would bump up against Rachel's left one and heat like nothing Rachel had ever felt would sear through her without explanation. She took another deep breath and held it until Quinn finally settled into a comfortable position. Then she looked down towards Brittany to the edge of the couch and found that there was enough room for her to scoot over to allow everyone enough space. So why didn't she? Her answer came a second later when Brittany pivoted to drape long legs across the arm of the couch. She reclined back in Santana's lap, long blonde hair draping over tan thighs and Rachel huffed, wondering what it would be like if she and Quinn were that way.

The movie progressed from there and Rachel was caught between trying to watch it and staring at the way she and Quinn were pressed closely together. She shifted in her seat, unable to keep still and not having the slightest idea why. She tried as discreetly as she could to side eye Quinn from where she sat to get a good look at how all of this was affecting her, if at all. Quinn's eyes never strayed from the TV the entire time.

Rachel sat back in her seat in resignation of two hours of torture. About forty minutes later, Quinn shifted in her seat. Her thigh rubbed slowly against Rachel's and Rachel inhaled a shaky breath, feeling a stab of warmth shoot down her body. She had the distinct feeling of wanting to crawl out of her skin because she felt so _hot_ with Quinn's body heat seeping into her.

As soon as the movie ended, Rachel hopped off the couch. Quinn and Brittany looked towards her in confusion while Santana scowled up at her. "Problem, Berry?" Santana asked.

"I'd just really like to study. Quinn, can we study? It's imperative that I learn geometry before my next exam or I may receive a C in the class for the entire semester and you don't want my near failure on your conscience, do you? So, let's go and—"

"Stop rambling," Quinn cut in as she stood up. Rachel frowned at her rudeness to which Quinn just smirked at the annoyed expression on her face. "I told you I'd help you study. Get your stuff."

She grabbed her bag and watched Quinn walk towards the dining room beside the massive kitchen that Rachel could fall in love with if given the chance…among other things in the Fabray household. Quinn settled into a seat and patted the one beside her pointedly. Rachel sat down beside her, taking out her textbook, notebook and pencil.

"Okay," Quinn began, grabbing Rachel's textbook. "What don't you understand?"

Immediately Rachel became overwhelmed with dread as she placed her elbows on the table and her head in her hands. "Pythagorean Theorem," she grumbled.

Quinn smiled a little. "What about it?"

"Quinn," she complained with a voice that teetered on a whine. "Don't make me try to explain my confusion; I'm already ignorant about the subject as is."

Quinn laughed, alerting Rachel to the fact that that was _exactly_ what she was trying to do before she said, "Okay, calm down," as she flipped through the book to the chapter on triangles and the Pythagorean Theorem. "First thing's first: the Pythagorean Theorem states that in a right triangle, the square of the measure of the hypotenuse equals the sum of the squares of the measures of the two legs. Write that down."

Rachel grabbed her pencil, flipped her notebook to a clean page and looked over at Quinn sheepishly. "Could you repeat that?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "In a right triangle, the square of the measure of the hypotenuse equals the sum of the squares of the measures of the two legs."

She wrote it down diligently, reading it over once before looking over at Quinn again. "Write this down," Quinn told her. "_A_ square plus _B_ square equals _C_ square."

"Yes and what does that mean?" Rachel asked as she wrote down the equation.

Quinn reached for the pencil. Their fingers brushed slowly and Rachel inhaled sharply at the contact before Quinn pulled away. She grabbed the notebook and ducked her head to draw a right triangle. "This," she said, pointing towards the hypotenuse, "is _C_. This can be _A_, though it doesn't really matter which of these two lines is _A_ or _B_, just as long as the hypotenuse is _C_."

Rachel nodded, listening to the gentle lull of Quinn's voice. It had a softness to it that she had never heard before. Gone was the hard, biting edge that her voice carried when they were in school. This voice was warm, occasionally raspy and settled warmly in Rachel's chest.

"What?" Quinn asked suspiciously.

Rachel blinked a couple times, only now realizing she had been staring at her. "N-nothing, I just—" she swallowed a lump of nervousness down her throat and just went for it. "I really like your voice, Quinn."

Quinn's cheeks tinted the barest hint. "You mean like, my singing voice?"

"I do like your singing voice," Rachel allowed. "I mean, granted you're a little pitchy sometimes—I could probably help with that if you wanted." Quinn's face quickly changed to irritation and Rachel was quick to speak up. "But I was referencing your speaking voice…just now."

"Oh," Quinn breathed softly, sounding completely unsure. "Thanks, I guess."

She was still blushing and ducked her head back down to study the diagram on Rachel's notebook. Rachel smiled in pleasant surprise at the reaction she received. "Anyway, what you have to do is square the value of _A_," Quinn continued, pointing to the line marked A. "And square the value of line _B_. Once you have that value, you add the squared numbers, which will equal _C_ squared."

Rachel nodded, finally understanding now that someone had taken the time to thoroughly explain it to her. "I think I've got it. Thank you, Quinn."

"No problem." She flipped towards the end of the chapter, then scooted the book over to Rachel. "Now," she began with a teasing smile, "do these problems."

"All of them?" Rachel shrieked mutedly.

"Until I say enough."

"Who died and made you queen?" Rachel grumbled to herself as she began to work on the math problems.

Quinn watched her silently for a moment before tentatively asking, "So...what's it like being gay?"

The pencil dropped from Rachel's slackened grip as she stared unblinkingly at her notebook. Was this entrapment? She cleared her throat. "I-I don't understand the question," she stammered.

Quinn leaned closer, brow furrowing. "I just—what does it feel like? Is it different?"

"Than…?"

"Being straight."

She took a deep breath. "No. Though it is anxiety inducing at times."

"Why?"

Rachel didn't really know where Quinn's sudden curiosity was coming from. Had she always had these questions? Every time Quinn stared at her with interest, was it because she had all of these questions building up? She looked over to meet Quinn's gaze as confidently as she could. Which, admittedly, wasn't very confidently. "It's anxiety inducing because I have to hide who I am at times."

Quinn nodded with a frown. "Do your fathers know?"

Rachel snorted a laugh at the very thought. "They most certainly do not."

"Why?"

"Because," she hesitated, not really knowing _why_, just knowing she wasn't ready. "I—"

"I guess it could be difficult," Quinn muttered thoughtfully. "To tell your parents. But, I mean, your parents are gay and if you can't tell them that you're gay, then what chance do children with normal parents have of telling them?"

Rachel's lips pulled down at her statement. "My parents _are_ normal, Quinn; just because they're gay does not make them any less normal than your parents."

Quinn made a face, a mix between amusement and exhaustion. "My parents _aren't_ normal."

"Well, mine are," Rachel assured.

Quinn chuckled. "Lucky you." She paused for a moment, before posing the next question. "Do you wish you had never come out?"

It only took a few moments of thought. "No, I don't wish that. Though scary at times, being out—not having to continue to date boys and pretend to like them—is liberating. And," Rachel ducked her head with a small blush, "having the opportunity to openly like girls is very…freeing in its own way."

Quinn sat straighter in her seat. "You like girls?"

Rachel smiled wryly. "I thought that was rather obvious."

"You know what I mean," Quinn hissed lowly as if this portion of the conversation was now a huge secret. "You like _a_ girl?"

Rachel recoiled at the question, sitting further back in her seat to put some distance between them. Her throat bobbed with a tight swallow, scared to say any more than that. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Come on, Rachel, it's not like I'm going to tell."

"Why do you care?" Rachel asked carefully.

She watched the way Quinn's eyes widened slightly. "I don't."

"Okay," Rachel said softly. She turned back to the problems she was supposed to solve in the book, heart hammering wildly against her chest as Quinn watched her carefully from her peripheral. Rachel couldn't shake the feeling that she was in jail, being interrogated and one wrong answer was going to be the end of her. She tried her hardest to focus back on her homework. A square plus B square equals C square, the Pythagorean Theorem. That was all she needed to know right now.

"It's just," Quinn began quietly, "sometimes I catch you looking at me."

Rachel exhaled slowly, her pencil gripped tightly in her hand, close to snapping. "H-how would you know unless you were looking at me, too?" she asked timidly.

Quinn didn't answer. She sat back in her seat, putting even more distance between them.

Rachel wasn't really sure whether or not to expect an answer, but after two minutes of pretending to do another math problem when all she could think about was Quinn sitting beside her, quizzing her on being gay and wondering who she liked, she backed her chair away from the table and stood up.

Quinn looked up at her in surprise and Rachel awkwardly pointed towards the kitchen. "Water—may I have a cup?"

"In the cabinet right of the stove. And water's in the fridge," Quinn replied as Rachel began walking towards the kitchen.

Really, a person could fall in love with how big the kitchen was. Rachel spun around in wonder at all the cabinets and appliances, the marble countertops, the new, state of the art oven and stove. Her fingers glided along the silver stove top breezily as she came to a stop in front of the cabinet Quinn was referring to. Using her right hand to brace against the counter, she lifted on to the tips of her toes, reaching up to open the cabinet with her left hand; her fingers crawled along the darkened space above her, looking for the cylindrical feel of a cup and coming up empty. She grunted in annoyance, pushing higher on her toes to find one. Her hand swiped one and knocked it over, sending it further back into the cabinet and Rachel whimpered at her own bad luck.

"You're like a midget or something," Rachel heard a velvety soft voice from behind her say. She felt her body heat up in embarrassment at Quinn once again catching her in an embarrassing situation, and something else that wasn't too familiar. "Need help?"

Quinn was right behind her this time, Rachel could tell because her body was already melting back into her. "Maybe a little," she admitted.

The next thing she felt was a slim build closer than it was seconds before. Her skin prickled in goosebumps as Quinn stepped closer until they were barely touching. Then she leaned up with Rachel and they _were_ touching and Rachel honestly couldn't help but lean back into that contact. Quinn grabbed the cup, sliding back down Rachel's body and evenly onto her feet. Rachel placed both hands on the counter, breathing picking up as she watched Quinn sit the cup down from the corner of her eyes. Then there was a feather light touch to the back of her head. It was Quinn's hand, gingerly sweeping her hair to the side. Rachel's head tipped backwards on its own accord and she could _feel_ Quinn exhale shakily against her jaw.

She couldn't take the games anymore, the not knowing whether or not Quinn felt the same way, the doubt every single damn time. She turned around slowly until they were facing each other. Her eyes, wide and disbelieving, travelled from tantalizing collarbones to hazel eyes that were darker than Rachel had ever seen them. She wondered if Quinn could hear her heart, if Quinn was going to kiss her, finally. All the while Quinn watched her silently with the most thoughtful, concentrated frown on her face.

A hand cupped her cheek and Rachel shivered at the warmth that radiated from it. It simmered low in her belly and she could feel something inside her clench and pulse. It made her antsy and drove her insane. Then Quinn's other hand rose to cup the side of her face as she leaned in.

Rachel's mind completely fried. It was _happening_. Those full, red lips she was staring at were about to be attached to her own and it was going to be _glorious_. Her breath grew shallower as Quinn's eyes closed. Her own clenched shut in anticipation of what was about to happen.

"Quinn, how the fuck do you work this complicated ass DVD player?"

Quinn tensed immediately. Rachel's eyes fluttered open as the warmth of two hands on her face left her. She looked up, Quinn's face was tense, eyebrows furrowed and lips turned down in a sneer of frustration. Rachel panicked, scared this was going to be aimed at her. But Quinn turned sharply, stalking out of the kitchen. Rachel followed further behind, stopping a few feet from the living room as Quinn rounded on Santana. "Damn it, Santana, can't you keep your mouth shut for _once_!"

Santana howled with laughter as Rachel slowly walked in, seeing her with her head reared back, clapping as if she had told the best joke in the world. Santana wiped her eye before sitting back up. She took one look at Rachel and broke out into peals of laughter again. "Damn, you're redder than a tomato!"

If it was possible, Rachel reddened even further, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt as she refused to meet anyone's eyes.

Quinn turned on her heel and practically stomped to the DVD player. She retrieved the DVD and shoved it into its case before turning back around and walking to the couch, avoiding Rachel's gaze the entire way. She fell back into the couch, crossing her arms pointedly as she glared at the TV. From Quinn's left, Santana leaned forward in her seat. Rachel looked over at her and Santana winked with a sly smirk.

A tiny squeak of surprise let out of Rachel at the sight and Quinn and Brittany turned to look at her in surprise. She blushed with an awkward smile. "I should probably go; it's almost nine and I'm sure my fathers are wondering when I'll be home." She briefly wondered where Quinn's own parents were but between her mortification at Santana's knowing smile and the fact that she couldn't shake the dread that surrounded her while Quinn was glaring at the entire room, she didn't have it in her to ask. "T-thank you, Quinn, for tutoring me. You've certainly been a big help."

"Yeah, I'm sure she was," Santana quipped. Brittany giggled quietly behind her.

Feeling completely overwhelmed, Rachel walked out of the living room and back into the kitchen. It felt like all the moisture in her travelled south; her throat was decidedly dry and as she picked up the cup Quinn had retrieved for her just a few minutes earlier—before she tried to _kiss_ her—Rachel decided she could go for some water for real this time. She downed an entire glass, then walked back to the dining room and sat down. This seemed like the safest place to be in the house as of right now. She called her fathers quickly, busying herself with the remaining math problems in the book. Or so she tried.

Her eyes drifted back to the archway that led to the living room with interest. Quinn had almost kissed her. _Quinn_ _Fabray_, straight as an arrow, had tried to kiss _her_. But what did it mean? Rachel certainly knew what this meant for her—a cause for celebration yet trepidation all the same because the question of how Quinn was going to react from now on was looming overhead. The fact that she avoided Rachel's eyes the entire time they were in the living room wasn't a good sign at all. And how did Quinn feel about the entire thing? Was she just caught in the moment because she and Rachel were having a conversation about lesbianism? Or…was this more purposeful than it seemed? And where did Santana and Brittany fit into all of this? They seemed to know something she didn't, if Santana's great amusement at Quinn's frustration earlier was any indication.

Rachel sighed wistfully as she kept her gaze towards the living room. Quinn's lips had looked so soft and supple, ruby red and just begging to be kissed. Her eyes were so dark and dangerous, holding promise that whatever was about to transpire between them was going to be pleasurable.

She shifted, clenching her thighs together as she took a deep breath, running a shaky hand through her hair. There was a knock at the door that whipped her attention around. She stood up but Quinn whizzed past her before she got the chance to go anywhere. Figuring Quinn was going to get the door, Rachel busied herself with collecting her belongings, zipping up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. When she looked up, Quinn was leaning against the doorframe staring at her.

"Your fathers are here," she said evenly.

Rachel stared at her as she approached, trying to find anything in her facial features that gave her away, but her face was completely neutral, smoothed over into the same impassivity that got under Rachel's skin; it was unnerving. She took a deep breath. "Thank you for tutoring me, Quinn. I've learned a lot."

There was a flicker of something behind hazel eyes at her last sentence but all Quinn said was, "No problem." She turned around and walked towards the front of the house, Rachel trailing closely behind. They got to the door and she smiled up at her fathers as she put her coat on before stepping outside, giving Quinn one last smile.

"See you Monday, Quinn."

"Bye, Rachel."

The door didn't close immediately after and Rachel sadly found herself being grateful for that much at least as she slid into the backseat of the car. "How was tutoring, sweetheart?" Hiram asked as he buckled his seatbelt. Leroy fumbled with the rearview mirror before putting the car into reverse and backing out of the driveway.

"It was alright, dad," Rachel mumbled thoughtfully. "Quinn certainly taught me a lot."


	8. Chapter 8

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

**A/N 1: **Thank you to everyone that continues to review this story! You guys are awesome and I appreciate it. :)

* * *

><p>She didn't sleep that night.<p>

She _couldn't_ sleep because Quinn had almost _kissed_ her and _would have_ if it wasn't for Santana interrupting. And Rachel didn't know what it meant. Sure, in a very logical sense, one could conclude that Quinn liked her, but…this was _Quinn_ here and when it came to the object of her affection sometimes logic had to be thrown out of the window. But as a self-esteem booster, she chose to believe Quinn actually had feelings for her. The way she looked at her right before they were about to kiss held something more behind it than a mild interest. It was…it was _smoldering_ and this time Rachel knew for a fact she wasn't delusional because Quinn had pressed up against her, her breathing already ragged as she leaned down, closed her eyes and waited for what was naturally going to come. If only Santana had have kept her damn mouth shut.

And what was with that wink she gave Rachel anyway? Did she know something? Rachel wondered if Santana knew she was gay or if…Santana knew if _Quinn_ was gay. Or bi or whatever—something that _wasn't_ entirely straight because if Quinn was straight then she wouldn't have felt the need to pin Rachel to the counter and make out with her—_almost_ make out with her.

Maybe she was curious. Rachel reasoned this was the ripe age to start an exploration of one's sexuality and maybe Quinn wasn't as uptight as everyone thought. Maybe under the surface was a girl that actually did think about sex and sexuality. But, why Rachel of all people?

Her head hurt. Thinking about Quinn was going to cause her to blow a vessel if she kept thinking so hard. She stood up from her desk, her lonely geometry problems laying there forgotten. She vowed to finish them later as she grabbed a jacket and slipped out the door.

"Daddy, can I go over Finn's house?" Rachel asked as she bounded down the stairs.

Leroy slowly lowered the newspaper from his line of vision to look at his daughter. She had been a ball of nerves ever since last night. He sucked his teeth in thought, before muttering, "Sure."

The ride to Finn's house was relatively silent. Rachel shrank in her seat as Leroy eyed her suspiciously. "How was your study session last night?"

"It was fine," she chirped. "I told you that."

He chuckled. "Memory is the first thing to go in old age. "You'll learn that one day."

Rachel scoffed. "You aren't _that_ old."

The conversation was left at that and Rachel practically hopped out the car when Leroy pulled along the road to Finn's house. "I'll see you later, daddy!"

He waved at her, but she was already at the doorstep. "See you later, sweetheart."

Carole opened the door with a smile on her face. Her smile took on a hint of bewilderment when she realized Rachel was standing there. "Hello…Rachel. How are you?"

Rachel cleared her throat nervously, only _now_ noticing that this was the first time she had been over to the Hudson household since the break up. "Hi, Carole," she hedged as brightly as she could. "I've been doing well. How are you?"

"I've been well." Her smile never faltered but it tightened creepily as she stood aside and allowed Rachel entrance. "I think it's great that you and Finn were able to maintain your friendship even after he broke up with you."

Rachel paused midstep after Carole said that, turning towards her. "H-he—what?"

Carole frowned in sympathy. "Oh, I'm sorry, Rachel. I know this must still be difficult for you." She walked over to Rachel and engulfed her in a hug. "I know it's easy to fall in love with Finn—he's a good boy, after all."

"He's something," Rachel said tightly.

"Such a sweet boy."

Rachel pulled back, offering Carole a tightlipped smile before stomping up the stairs. "It was wonderful seeing you again, Carole!"

"You, too, Rachel!"

She marched to Finn's room, embarrassment tightening her shoulders, and opened his door, slamming it shut. Finn was the floor in front of his bed, unsurprisingly engrossed in a videogame. Rachel marched over to stand beside him, placing her hands on her hips. "Why does your mother think _you_ broke up with _me_?"

His jaw dropped as he fumbled for an answer while trying to kill zombies. "Uh…well, that was just my way to keep our _real_ reason for breaking up a secret. You know, the real reason…that you're gay."

"I know what I am!" Rachel exclaimed, cheeks flushing. "But Carole was down there _pitying_ me because she thinks I'm in love with her good, sweet, innocent boy!"

Finn smiled bashfully. "I am pretty sweet."

"Ugh!" Her arms were pulled taut at her sides as she stomped her foot once. She exhaled slowly, telling herself to calm down because this wasn't what she had come here for. Her stomach fluttered unexpectedly as thoughts of last night filtered through her brain freely. She smoothed down the back of her skirt and sat down on Finn's bed. "Okay, I don't want to talk about this right now. I have something important to discuss with you."

He looked at her like she was crazy, then turned back to his videogame. "You're the one that came in yelling at me, but whatever. What do you have to talk about?"

"Quinn tried to kiss me last night," Rachel whispered as her hands began fidgeting in her lap.

Finn continued staring at the TV screen. "What like, in your dreams, or—"

"_No_," Rachel instantly replied, mildly offended. "In real life."

_That_ made Finn pause. He saved his game and turned it off, standing up slowly. "Quinn kissed you?"

"_Almost_ kissed me," she grumbled. "Santana interrupted."

Finn stared down at her in incomprehension. "So…Quinn actually—explain this."

She blushed, remembering what caused her to end up in such a comprising situation anyway. "Okay, well, we were talking—"

"About what?"

"Me being gay."

Finn laughed. "So, you just slipped that into the conversation?"

Rachel smiled, a rare smug grin because of what she was about to reveal. "Quinn was the one who brought it up."

Finn touched his tongue to his cheek, his face morphing into muted fascination. "She brought up the fact that you were gay?"

Rachel nodded. "She asked me what it was like. Then I went into describing it, but anyway—this is the best part." Her eyes sparkled with excitement that she didn't allow herself to really feel last night. Now that she was relaying all of this back to Finn, it really did sound like Quinn had spent the entire evening making a pass at her. "She asked me if I liked someone and then I asked her why would she care. Then she said she didn't."

"Yeah, this doesn't sound so good," Finn admitted.

Rachel scowled up at him. "I'm not finished. So, anyway, then she says to me that she sometimes catches me looking at her." Finn smirked as Rachel continued. "Then I asked her how would she know unless she was looking at me, too."

"Smooth talker," Finn said with a sly grin.

Rachel smiled shyly. "She didn't say anything after that."

He sat down beside her, eying her in a mixture of confusion and awe as this story unfolded.

"So, I left to go to the kitchen and get some water," Rachel continued. "I didn't really expect her to answer. So, anyway, I'm in the kitchen. But I couldn't reach a cup in the cabinet and I guess I was voicing my frustration louder than I thought because Quinn came in a moment later." She gestured vaguely with her hands, smiling wryly. "She called me a midget. What's new, right? But it didn't even sound like an insult. It sounded like-like she was teasing me or something. Then she stood behind me and got the cup for me. Then the next thing I know her fingers are in my hair and—"

Finn shifted in his seat. "Well, that's-that's—"

"I'm not finished," Rachel interrupted. "So, anyway, I decide right then and there to turn around and face her because I was sick of being confused and I just wanted to know what she was thinking for once. Then she cupped my face like this." Rachel scooted forward and cupped both of Finn's cheeks in her hands, bringing them face to face. "And she puckered her lips," Rachel whispered. "And her eyes closed and I _know_ she would have kissed me if Santana hadn't have interrupted, Finn."

Finn's face scrunched up as if he were in pain and he took a couple deep breaths as Rachel pulled back to eye him in concern. "Are you alright?"

"Peachy," he whispered, thighs shifting. Rachel winced when she finally caught on, turning away to give him a chance to collect himself.

"I don't tell you these things to fulfill your obvious Sapphic fantasies, Finn," she grumbled, folding her arms.

"Yeah, well, you want my advice," he grumbled right back. "I can't help that it comes at a price sometimes."

She sighed. "Finn, what does all of this mean?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "With Quinn, you never know. But I can tell you that she never does anything by accident."

"You mean she almost kissed me on purpose?" Rachel asked hopefully.

"Yeah…but I don't know if that means she likes you." He scratched his head in thought, trying to explain himself.

"But you just said she doesn't do anything by accident."

"Right. But that doesn't mean anything considering no one ever knows what she's thinking." He squinted his eyes as if recalling past pain. "She's kinda crazy."

Rachel groaned, flopping back to lie on his bed. The scent of stale musk scrunched her nose and made her eyes sting. She clenched them shut, jabbing the heels of her palms into her eyes in frustration. "Finn, this isn't helping."

He pivoted to stare down at her. "Have you ever thought about, I don't know, talking to her?"

It sounded like sarcasm, but Rachel couldn't be sure because she had never heard him use sarcasm before. She bit her lip nervously and answered as best she could. "I'm afraid."

"You've never been afraid of Quinn."

"Yeah, but I felt nothing for her before other than an admiration for her physical beauty. Now, I-I like her," she said cautiously. "I like the fact that she can be nice and helpful when she wants to be."

Finn sighed. "I don't really know how to help."

Rachel leaned up to pat him on the shoulder. "No, you've done enough. Thank you. At least now I know this wasn't some spur of the moment thing. It was purposeful. That's better than nothing, right?"

He smiled. "You're in for it, dude."

"Finn."

"Rachel," he corrected with a wince as she side eyed him.

* * *

><p>Monday was scary. As it had always been for the past two weeks. Rachel didn't have any expectations, though. She found that when it came to Quinn Fabray it was probably best to not have any expectations. She was too unpredictable. But one thing she <em>could<em> predict was Quinn walking down this hallway this very moment.

Looking radiant as ever with her two friends by her side, Quinn sauntered down the hallway, hips swaying dangerously and snaring Rachel's attention. Rachel stood there, caught between wanting to stay just to see Quinn for the first time since Friday and wanting to flee because her instincts told her to. Butterflies with weighted wings of dread fluttered around in her stomach as Quinn came closer.

But the most unsettling part of it all was today, she wasn't staring at Rachel. She kept looking forward the entire time, passing Rachel and continuing down the hallway without a glance in her direction.

Rachel wasn't sure if this was an appropriate time to start crying or not. She could practically see her heart, limp and un-beating attached to the bottom of Quinn's shoe as she continued down the hallway. Her eyelids fluttered rapidly in incomprehension of this entire situation. She slumped back against her lockers, staring down at her hands. "What did I expect?" she grumbled to herself. "She doesn't even like me."

"Well, of course she doesn't like you," Kurt hissed quietly as he took a step closer. "You barely make yourself known." He stopped in front of her, making a grand sweeping gesture with his hand. "Quinn Fabray is like, the cream of the crop at this school now that she's head Cheerio. Add to that that she's actually pretty; even by _my_ standards. She's got boys drooling all over her every day—what makes you think she's going to notice a little show choir girl with a big voice?"

She felt an odd mix of offense and flattery at his comment about her voice and didn't know whether to smile or ball her fists up in anger because Kurt didn't know what he was talking about. Quinn _had_ noticed her. Enough to almost kiss her on the lips at her house exactly two and a half days ago. But it felt like a moot point to drag in now because Quinn had royally dissed her the very next time they saw each other like nothing had happened. But it was hard to make herself known without possibly getting her heart stomped on in the process. But from the way being given the cold shoulder from Quinn earlier had felt, Rachel was going to get her heart stomped on either way she sliced it.

"Now, _this_ is how you get someone's attention," Kurt whispered. He coiffed his hair and smiled widely, crossing one leg in front of the other as he breathed, "Hi, Finn."

Rachel turned around to find Finn coming to a stop near the two of them. "You're looking really fit today," Kurt continued, running his eyes down Finn's body.

Finn shifted uncomfortably, stopping in front of Rachel. "Hey, Kurt." He took one step away before looking down at Rachel. "You okay?"

Rachel shrugged once. "Quinn ignored me. What else is new?"

Finn sighed and wrapped her in a bear hug in which Kurt joined in, wrapping an arm around Finn's back. "Dude, what's up with you?" Finn finally asked.

They all drew back and Kurt smiled up at him. "I'm joining the football team."

"Uh, we already _have_ our team. But I guess you can still tryout if you want."

Kurt clapped. "Lovely. When do they hold auditions?"

"_Tryouts_, dude. And you can tryout today after school if you want."

Kurt wrapped an arm around Rachel's. "Fantastic. We'll be there."

Rachel wiggled her arm away, aghast. "I'm _not_ trying out for the football team so that some pig skinned Neanderthal can plow through me!"

"Maybe Quinn would notice you if you were on the team," Kurt said.

He was really cruel for that one, because she was actually considering it, until she finally put her foot down. "No, absolutely not! I am not trying out for football."

Kurt sighed. "Fine, then just come watch me tryout. And record it because you know my dad thinks I'm…" he trailed off with a very obvious look in his eye that Rachel caught on to with a head nod.

"Yes, I have no problem recording."

"Great." Kurt turned to Finn. "Then we will most definitely be at football practice this evening." He stuck his hand out to Finn and they shook on it, Kurt caressing Finn's fingers as he pulled back.

Finn stared at him oddly before waving goodbye to Rachel and walking off.

"He's so into me," Kurt whispered.

Rachel cringed, glad for the healthy dose of skepticism she had when it came to Quinn because she sure as hell didn't want to sound like _that_.

* * *

><p>Kurt unsurprisingly needed a theme song to warm up to in order to better perform the role of kicker. But he was impressive once <em>Single<em> _Ladies_ was allowed to play for long enough. Coach Tanaka kept loudly praising him, so Rachel guessed he was pretty amazing. She sat on the bleachers, recording Kurt with a camcorder she had borrowed from Jacob Ben Israel. She had to exchange a pair of panties in order to borrow the camcorder and lamented the fact that she actually _had_ a stash of new panties with the tags ripped off in her locker just in case she ever needed a favor from Jacob.

Football practice ended and Kurt curtsied, waving towards Rachel on the bleachers. Rachel waved back with a smile, shutting the camera off and laughing as Kurt slapped Finn on the butt in what he probably disguised as good sportsmanship. He skipped gleefully towards her with a giant grin. "I was amazing, right?" he asked breathlessly. "Did you see me slap Finn's butt? I'm kind of fangirling, not gonna lie."

"You were great, Kurt." She handed him the camcorder. "Now, this has to be back in Jacob's hands tomorrow or I owe him a bra, too. Please remember to bring it back."

He fumbled to turn the device on, eager to see himself. "Yeah, yeah, no problem."

Finn came walking up the bleachers a moment later and plopped down beside Rachel. He leaned forward to look at Kurt. "You were great, dude. Got some kick."

Kurt smiled widely and Rachel rolled her eyes at the two of them, focusing ahead at Quinn's ponytail swaying back and forth as she ran onto the field. Puck stopped her in her tracks and the two of them stood there, talking for longer than Rachel liked. Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth as she crossed her legs and sat forward, watching the two of them intently.

Quinn ran off after a moment and began to lead the group through a series of stretches. She was…really flexible. Then suddenly she sunk down to the ground and her thighs parted into a split with ease. Rachel swallowed tightly at the display before her. Quinn straightened slowly, smoothing down the back of her skirt as if that was going to hide anything. Rachel turned away just as Quinn bent downwards to touch her toes.

Finn smirked at how flushed she looked. "You should talk to her after practice."

"Do you think she'd be nice to me?" Rachel asked as she finally turned her eyes towards the field. Quinn was finally done stretching and all the Cheerios were aligning themselves for a cheer.

"Probably not," Kurt piped up from her other side. She scowled over at him. "What?" he asked. "I'm just saying. Quinn isn't nice."

"Well, Quinn was nice to her when Rachel went over her house Friday," Finn defended.

Kurt gasped and turned towards Rachel. "That's _right_! I forgot you got the chance to go over there! How was it? How do the she-devils act when they're all together?"

Rachel smiled enigmatically before whispering, "Quinn tried to kiss me."

Kurt blinked once, twice, three times. "I'm being serious here."

"So am I," she said with an exasperated eye roll. "She tried to kiss me."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Kurt's eyes flicked to Finn as if looking for confirmation. Finn nodded and Kurt looked back at Rachel. "This is absolutely _wild_; I can't believe it!"

Her smile widened. "Believe it, Kurt."

"Well, you said almost, which means it hasn't happened yet, which means you need to step up to the plate, girlfriend."

The screeching of Sue's bullhorn had all three of them cowering and covering their ears as they looked towards the field. The Cheerios were being dismissed.

"Now's your chance," Kurt whispered as he grabbed her arm and tugged. "Go!"

Rachel casted a worried glance at Finn whom gave her two thumbs up as Kurt practically shoved her down the bleachers. Rachel stood at the bottom row, watching Quinn place her belongings in her duffel bag. She slid it along her shoulder then looked up, meeting Rachel's eyes. Rachel stood motionless as Quinn held her gaze for a long moment, her stony expression never once cracking. Then she readjusted her bag and continued walking through the gate and back into the school.

She looked back to Kurt and Finn once more, feeling wholly unprepared—which was a very unfamiliar feeling for her. They made sweeping gestures for her to leave once more and she hopped off the last row, walking towards the school.

The back hallway looked particularly eerie without the hustle and bustle of students walking to and from class. There was no one there in the long expanse of the hallway, no sound other than Rachel's penny loafer's occasional scuffing against the dull polish of the hallway floors. She continued down the hallway, looking behind her every once in a while as if Quinn was some monster that was going to creep up behind her and scare her. She came to a stop at the girls' locker room where a chorus of feminine giggles floated into the hallway and did something funny in her stomach. Especially when the familiar sound of Quinn's giggle reached her ears. Slowly walking forward, she quietly opened the door and slipped inside. The laughter sounded louder the closer she ventured and her stomach knotted in nervousness as she kept walking.

"I can do this," she whispered to herself. "I can talk to her."

She bypassed a wall that broke off into rows of lockers in the main section of the locker room. The showers were on and steaming, a cloud of smoke hazing everything over. Rachel walked past the last row and that was when she saw Quinn.

Topless.

Well, she had a red sports bra on, but she may as well have been naked if the way Rachel's heart sped up was any indication. Her shoulders were strong and delicate, the lean muscles of her back flexing as she folded her uniform top and bent down to lay it on a her bag. Her skin looked so soft and milky white. All Rachel wanted to do was reach out and touch it—the expanse of her shoulder blades, the dip of her lower back, the curve just where her ass began.

Her face began to heat up just as Quinn turned around. Her jaw dropped and her brow furrowed in annoyance for the briefest moment until recognition kicked in. Then she straightened, rolling her shoulders back. "What are you doing in here?" she asked evenly.

Rachel cleared her throat, trying to keep her eyes level with Quinn's, but there was too much bare skin that kept calling for her attention. "I-I came to talk." Her voice squeaked like a prepubescent boy and she blushed as Quinn arched an eyebrow.

"With who?"

Rachel blinked confusedly at the question. "With _you_."

"About what?"

She risked a step closer, sighing at Quinn's obvious deflection. But for some reason, Quinn's reluctance offered a little comfort because Rachel was feeling just as reluctant to actually have this conversation. She risked a quick glance around them, reasoning all the other cheerleaders were in the shower, if the amused voices fluttering in and out coming from the giant ball of steam was any indication. "You know what," she said quietly.

Quinn shifted, her abs flexing as she positioned most of her weight on her right leg and Rachel couldn't stop herself from staring if she wanted. Quinn was defined, but not overly so. And she looked so damn soft. Her breasts were small, but perky, holding their own shape in the confines of her bra. Rachel's breath hitched; she didn't know if the haze was playing a trick on her or not, but she was pretty sure she could make out two hardened nipples through the fabric of that sports bra.

Quinn cleared her throat pointedly and Rachel's gaze snapped up to her face. There was a faint blush along Quinn's cheeks that could have been from how hot it was in the locker room. "No," Quinn said, elongating the word as she took a step closer. "I _don't_ know what." There was a challenging glint that darkened her eyes and caused butterflies to let loose in Rachel's stomach.

She inhaled deeply, trying to recall the encouragement Finn and Kurt had given her earlier. "You…" She bit her lip nervously.

"I _what_?" Quinn said sharply.

"You almost kissed me," Rachel hissed, sick of her mind games. She pointed a finger at Quinn. "You almost kissed me when I was at your house on Friday and I want to know what that meant!"

Throughout her little tirade, she had gone from vaguely jabbing a finger in Quinn's direction to actually jabbing Quinn in the _chest_. Her finger rested just above Quinn's red sports bra. And her skin was so _hot_. Indescribable heat seemed to flow through Rachel immediately and make her muscles ache and liquefy. Her legs felt wobbly, her face inflamed, and goosebumps rose along her skin. She jumped back as if burned, clenching her hand into a fist as she took a respectful step back.

Quinn rubbed her lips together slowly, brow crinkling as she stepped forward.

Rachel blinked rapidly, seemingly unable to comprehend the fact that Quinn was walking towards her. Luckily her feet caught up before her and she took careful steps back to find safety. Unluckily, she found herself backing into a locker. The cold metal bit her skin and she hissed as it made contact with her overheated body.

Quinn pressed both hands against the locker beside Rachel's head, leaning closer. Rachel gasped quietly the second she could feel Quinn's bare stomach pressed against her own through her shirt. Quinn stared hard at her unwaveringly. "Why does it have to mean something?" she questioned sharply.

The soft press of her body belied the lack of warm of her comment as Rachel's brain grew foggy just from their contact. Every time Quinn exhaled, they would press even closer together and Rachel practically melted back into the lockers at the feeling. "Because," she whispered hoarsely. "Because you don't just nearly kiss someone just for the hell of it."

Quinn hummed as if she were actually pondering Rachel's statement. She dipped lower, bringing them even closer as her nails raked down the locker, causing Rachel to tremble. Quinn smiled—sharp and feral, but it was gone as quickly as it came. She leaned closer until her lips were beside the shell of Rachel's ear. "If I would have kissed you…would you have kissed me back?"

Rachel shook where she stood from the dual assault of having Quinn so close and the warm bursts of breath against her ear. Her lips tingled in anticipation and she licked them slowly, eyes slipping shut as she thought back to Friday. They were in a similar position, only Quinn's hand had been gently cupping her face, not plastered to the locker behind her.

"I'm waiting, Berry." A shiver rolled down her spine at the soft yet commanding purr Quinn's voice had slipped into.

"Yes," she whispered breathlessly, turning her face towards Quinn. Their eyes locked and a hint of surprise caused Quinn's eyes to grow wider as she stared back at Rachel.

Quinn pulled back abruptly. Rachel watched the way Quinn's chest heaved up and down as she stood a couple feet away. Then she straightened as if nothing had happened. She walked back over to the bench where her bag was and, with her back to Rachel, unzipped her skirt and shimmied out of it. Rachel's jaw dropped as a round, bright red pair of spanks came into her view. Quinn tossed one look over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing critically as she watched Rachel watch her. Then, without a word, she walked towards the showers, disappearing in the fog.


	9. Chapter 9

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

* * *

><p>After brief consideration, Rachel finally decided to throw all logic out of the window.<p>

Quinn wanted her.

Maybe in some alternate universe that she somehow stepped in to, but that was the only conclusion she could come up with. The only conclusion she _wanted_ to come up with. The only question was…how to proceed from here. Or if she should even proceed at all. Probably not because what the hell would even come from this? A relationship?

Not likely.

If anything, a little titillation and a lot of humiliation was how all of this was going to end and it was ultimately up to Rachel whether or not she was going to continue on with this.

Because Quinn certainly wasn't.

If anything was going to happen at all, it was definitely going to be Rachel making the first move, the only move.

She still couldn't wrap her mind around her encounter with Quinn yesterday. The way her hips shifted as she shimmied out her skirt, the blush she wore when she noticed Rachel staring at her, how hard Quinn's nipples were, protruding salaciously through the fabric of her bra. Rachel licked her lips, remembering how her hands itched to—what exactly? Pinch them? Roll them between her fingers? Would Quinn like that? Would she even get that far—_anywhere_?

Rachel forced those thoughts away, feeling her heart rate pick up speed. Quinn certainly knew how to send her into a tailspin of emotions at the drop of a hat. It was unfair, really. While she was seemingly a cesspool of emotions, Quinn was the same untouchable, impenetrable force she had been from the very beginning. The only time Rachel had seen a crack in her armor was when she was breathing unevenly against her jaw, right before they were about to kiss.

Rachel sat up quickly on her bed. The _only_ time she had seen a crack in Quinn's armor was when they were about to kiss. That had to mean something, right?

But it didn't matter now. Rachel slumped back against her bed, recalling her upset today in school when Kurt told her that he had heard from Mercedes, who heard from Tina, who overheard from Jacob interviewing Puck that he had asked Quinn out this morning before first period. There had been no confirmation throughout the entire day in school—Rachel made sure to keep her ears to the ground to make sure. But the question was still lingering, and, would eventually be answered. The entire school was waiting with bated breath. The boys waiting to see if Quinn was going to be off the market and the girls wondering the same about Puck.

Regardless of whatever barely there flirting was going on between her and Quinn over the past two weeks, Quinn saying yes to Noah Puckerman was going to seal the deal of what Finn had been telling Rachel from the very beginning: Quinn wasn't gay.

The events of today weighed heavily on her chest as thoughts of the girl she liked saying yes to Puck assaulted her mind. He only wanted her because she was popular and a virgin. He only wanted to boost his own popularity and-and _score_ or whatever boys called hooking up with a girl nowadays.

She sighed listlessly at the thought. No matter how foolish she thought abstaining from sex was—something teenagers naturally urged for during such a time in which hormones were raging at an all-time high—she respected Quinn's decision to wait as well as her position as Celibacy Club president. Though, she would still like to go on the record as feeling that a club for abstaining was setting teenagers back into the dark ages where sex was something no one talked about and ignorance ran rampant.

Puck didn't respect Quinn's decision to wait. And Rachel didn't want Quinn to feel pressured to go against her religion and morals just to please some boy that was probably just going to hit it and quit it.

Rachel stood up from her bed with a pout, stomping out of her room and down the stairs. Her parents were on the couch together, watching something Rachel didn't bother to take the time to notice. She walked into their field of vision and burrowed into the couch in the barely there space between them. She grabbed Hiram's hand and buried her face into Leroy's chest. And six words that she hadn't even taken the time to consider before speaking them into existence were whined past her lips. "Why is liking girls so hard?"

Leroy's eyebrows rose along his forehead before his whole face split into a grin. Hiram echoed his smile as he gave Rachel's hand a reassuring squeeze. Leroy placed a kiss on her head. "When I was in college, I asked myself the same question."

Rachel chuckled despite herself. With one simple statement from Leroy and the warm pressure of Hiram's hand covering her own, they had both lifted what had been a heavy weight off of her in mere seconds. She suddenly felt foolish. Her fathers knew—of course they knew!—had known for probably this entire time. She sighed quietly and snuggled further into Leroy. "You guys knew this entire time, didn't you?"

Hiram shook his head. "No, your father managed to convince me about a week ago."

Rachel pouted.

"I had an inkling," Leroy admitted. "You had never seemed that interested in boys and, when you _did_ have a boyfriend, you barely talked about him aside from glee club. And you came home every day complaining about his ex-girlfriend. What was her name?"

Hiram snickered. "Quinn, honey. Don't you dare forget that name, of all the names of her peers Rachel's talked about."

Rachel flushed under their scrutiny as they openly compared notes over the past two months of her life.

Leroy smirked, looking down at her. "You talked about her more than you talked about him. That's when I first started to wonder."

She slumped back against the seat and folded her arms petulantly. "You could have told me you knew. I've been confused and out of sorts for weeks."

"And I've been dropping you hints for weeks," Leroy responded incredulously. "I wanted to just confront you, but after talking with your father, we decided that we really didn't want to force you out, honey; we wanted you to come to us on your own. And you did. And you know what?"

She shook her head and turned to Hiram when he teasingly pulled on a lock of her hair. "It wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No, dad," Rachel replied sheepishly, ducking her head in embarrassment for making them all wait this long for something that would inevitably bring them closer together instead of creating some catastrophic rift between them like Rachel had made up in her mind. She huffed out a shaky breath as she felt tears sting her eyes.

"Come here, sweetheart."

Right on cue, she collapsed in Hiram's arms, a quiet sob of relief and exhaustion retching from her throat without warning. She felt a warm hand rub up and down her back soothingly as Hiram whispered reassurances in her ear. "You're alright," he whispered. "Nothing's changed."

And miraculously, it didn't. Not a thing had changed in their household between the time it took Rachel to mistakenly come out and now. She still had two fathers who loved and protected her and would continue to do so for the rest of their lives. She smiled, a shuddery laugh bubbling in her throat. "You must think I'm silly."

"I think you're Rachel," Leroy said softly from somewhere behind her. "I thought you were Rachel ten minutes ago and I still think you're Rachel now."

Out of all the advice and pick-me-up talks she had had over the last three weeks of her life, her father simply telling her she was still Rachel and always would be was the best thing anyone had ever told her.

* * *

><p>Rachel clutched her phone to her ear tightly. She squinted down at the end of the hallway, waving to Kurt. "Have you heard anything?" she whispered desperately into the phone as she spun her combination into her locker. She deposited her books quickly, opening her locker door more to look at herself into the mirror. Aside from anxiety that was widening her eyes to near manic level, she looked relatively normal today.<p>

"_Nope, nothing yet_," Kurt's voice fluttered through the phone. "_No one's talking. Which is a good thing, I guess_."

Rachel sighed in relief, grabbing her lip gloss from on top of her geometry book.

Quinn was still single.

There wasn't any gossip buzzing around saying she had told Puck yes, and Rachel would take that as a victory for as long as it lasted. She twisted off the cap of her lip gloss and ran the applicator smoothly and evenly across her lips. They tinted a darker, more alluring shade of pink and she smiled, pressing her lips together, then pulling them apart to create the _pop_ sound she loved so much. She capped her lip gloss then, dabbing her pinky at the corner of her mouth to remove excess sticky shine.

"That means she's still single, right?" she asked for confirmation.

"_That's what I would assume_," Kurt said.

Rachel angled her head around the door of her locker to find Kurt walking back down the hallway towards her. She closed her flip phone and slid it into her locker as he approached. "Do you think she'll say yes?"

"Honestly?" he asked. "She's popular, he's popular, together they'd be even _more_ popular. And you know what popularity means to her."

Rachel nodded dejectedly, rubbing her fabulously glossed lips together. "I suppose you're right. I just wish…" she shrugged. "I don't know—that there was more to her than that."

Kurt nodded sympathetically as she turned towards her locker, grabbing her textbooks for her next class. "At least you had a couple weeks' worth of mild flirting and an almost kiss. Finn doesn't even bat an eyelash at me."

She laughed and sighed all at once. "Finn doesn't know _how_ to bat his eyelashes."

"See?" Kurt said with a laugh. "At least Quinn knows how to do that."

"Thank you, Kurt," she said sincerely, appreciating the fact that he was trying to lift her spirits though it was barely working.

"Hey, hey, buck up, kiddo." He reached out to rub her arm softly. "This is just your first crush. My dad always told me that first crushes are hard to get over, so that's why it feels crappy right now. But you'll get over it, trust me."

She smiled wider at how supportive of a friend Kurt had turned out to be and hugged him tightly. She had never envisioned herself as the type to get the girl—she wasn't George Clooney or…Ellen Degeneres. She didn't end up getting the girl, but at least she ended up getting a friend who was similar to her.

* * *

><p>She found herself stopping at computers all day to check Jacob's website for updates on Quinn. So far her relationship status was still pending. What Quinn was waiting on, Rachel had no idea.<p>

Her fingers drummed impatiently against the mouse before she exited from the internet and stood from the computer areas of the classroom to take a seat at her desk. She pulled out a notebook and began writing when an idea struck her. Pulling out her phone, she quickly began typing a message to Finn.

_**Has Noah told you anything?**_

After sending the message, she went back to work, writing down her chemistry notes. Her phone buzzed soon after and she discreetly flipped it open under her desk.

_**About what?**_

She rolled her eyes with a quiet growl.

_**Honestly, Finn, I'm on a limited text messaging plan of 150 text messages per month. That includes sending AND receiving. I don't have time to waste messages, so please don't be such a squanderer. And I was referring to Noah's courtship of Quinn.**_

The replies were instantaneous…and useless.

_**Oh…**_

_**Sorry.**_

_**But uh no. All I know is that they made out like twice but she wont let him do any more because he hasnt asked her out. So now hes asked her out but she hasnt said yes yet**_

Rachel blinked rapidly at the last text message. Quinn had kissed Puck…more than once. She had kissed Puck, but didn't kiss Rachel. But would have had the circumstances been more ideal. Rachel fumbled for her pencil, looking down at her notebook but not seeing. Quinn would have kissed her just as she had kissed Puck, had Santana not interrupted. And now the offer of being Puck's girlfriend had been on the table for about a day and Quinn still hadn't claimed that position. She was stalling. Stalling for a reason.

Rachel bit her lip, resolution creeping into her mind. It was a stretch, but she was determined for something to give.

* * *

><p>Rachel walked into the choir room, greeted by the chorus of whispers over by the piano.<p>

"I heard she's been avoiding Puck all day," Mercedes whispered.

"I heard Puck's already moved on," Kurt replied.

"N-n-no way," Tina stuttered. "He's trying for a record."

They both stared at her. She shrugged. "He's trying to be the first and only guy to have sex with all the Cheerios."

Rachel stopped short, head tilting to the side as she listened intently.

Mercedes pursed her lips. "I don't think she's gonna say yes."

Rachel watched Kurt's lips tremble with a knowing smile, but he deflected by asking, "Why do you think that?"

"Because Puck's a man-whore," she deadpanned. "He's run through the whole cheerleading squad like a—"

"A football player?" Kurt asked.

They all laughed animatedly and Rachel cleared her throat, making her presence known. "Good afternoon, fellow glee clubbers," she said innocuously. "May I ask what you all are talking about?"

Mercedes took one look at her. "Puck and Quinn are on the fence and we're trying to figure out which side they're gonna tip on."

Kurt nodded. "Will they land in a bed of roses or in a thicket of thorns?"

They all looked to Rachel, expecting her input. She shrugged a shoulder halfheartedly, trying to act as if she didn't care though her heart was on the line. "I have no idea."

Mercedes waved her off. "This space is for speculating."

It was a dismissal and Rachel took her cue, not wanting to debate Quinn's future with two people who had no idea how much stake she had in it. She sat down and crossed her legs tightly, sighing at how awkward glee club was surely going to be today.

Finn walked in a moment later and Rachel smiled in relief as he sat down beside her. "I'm so nervous," she whispered immediately.

He wrapped an arm around her. "This is it, okay? If she says yes to him then you can finally move on, you know?"

She looked up at him pleadingly. "But she almost kissed me, Finn. That _has_ to mean something."

"Did she say it did?"

No. No, she didn't. Rachel slumped back against her seat. So, what if Quinn didn't say it meant anything. She had asked Rachel—asked for confirmation—that if she had in fact kissed her, Rachel would have kissed back. And _that_ meant something. It had to.

Quinn walked in with Santana and Brittany looking the same way she did every day. Beautiful. She didn't look as if there was some internal debate going on, didn't look as if the entire school was waiting on her to make a decision. She looked like a normal sixteen year old girl. Her eyes narrowed and cut sharply to the group over by the piano and, after a few seconds, Kurt, Mercedes, and Tina dispersed into their own seats in the room.

Rachel smiled amusedly.

Then Quinn passed by her, the pleats of her skirt brushing against her hip like normal and warmth flooded through her at the routine.

Puck walked in with his guitar slung over his shoulder and a smirk on his face. A couple of girls crowded outside the doorway in despair as he walked up the risers towards Quinn. Rachel angled her body sideways, trying not to appear obvious as she spied their interaction. Her eyes pinched in annoyance as Puck stood directly in front of Quinn.

"C'mon, babe. You got this whole school waiting on you. Say yes already."

She rolled her eyes, imagining Quinn was doing exactly the same as long, toned legs crossed and her arms folded across her chest. "I said give me time to _think_." She hit that last word hard with barely contained annoyance and Rachel felt her stomach flutter.

"It's not like I asked you to marry me, Q. Just let Puckasaurus be your big, hot boyfriend for a few months."

"So, what? Just so you can have sex with me?"

Rachel bit her lip pensively as their conversation carried on. At least Quinn knew what Puck's true intentions were. That much was good.

Puck sighed, shifting his weight. "Fine, think it over. But it'll be hot; that's all I'm saying."

He walked towards the end of the row. Quinn quickly leaned over Santana to hiss down towards him, "I told you I abstain!"

Puck sat heavily in his seat, shrugging. "And I told you that shit's for ugly people."

Santana snickered and even Brittany cracked an amused smile. Quinn, however, folded her arms even more tightly across herself and glared forward.

Rachel stared up at her in awe, having gained a new found respect for the act of abstaining. She could admit that though she wasn't attracted to Noah Puckerman, he was an attractive individual. Lots of girls were attracted him and Quinn probably was, too. But she chose to exercise self-control in an effort to protect herself and her morals. Rachel smiled a little.

Hazel eyes blinked finally after what felt like an eternity. They rounded and softened before Quinn blinked again, slowly, and looked down at Rachel. Their eyes met and Rachel smiled tentatively in some form of understanding of what must be Quinn's mounting frustration though Quinn was trying her hardest not to let anything show.

Red lips quirked upwards the barest hint as Quinn continued to stare down at her. Then she looked away, her tongue dragging along her lower lip slowly.

Rachel flushed at the provocative display, turning towards the front. "Tease."

"What'd you say?" Finn asked.

She froze immediately. "Oh, uh, I-I was—sneeze!" Her face burned as she heard Quinn's low chuckle from two rows away. "I said sneeze—I-I have to—achoo!" She covered her mouth with her hands, making a faux sneeze noise and wishing someone would kill her and put her out of her misery. "See? Just…just a sneeze."

Finn eyed her in confusion before he just decided it was best he didn't know. "Uh, sure okay."

Mr. Schuester walked in a moment later, effectively putting Rachel out of her misery. "Good afternoon, guys. Sorry I'm late, but I'm here now. We can get started with everyone's ballads now if—"

"Actually, Mr. Schue." Rachel whirled around to find Puck standing up and grabbing his guitar. "I'd like to sing a song to kick things off if that's alright."

Mr. Schuester smiled encouragingly. "Wow, someone other than Rachel, Mercedes, or Kurt who wants to go first for a change." He gestured towards the middle of the floor. "Have at it, Puckerman."

Rachel scoffed in irritation, folding her arms across her chest as Puck stepped down from the risers. He hoisted his guitar into his hands, resting his fingers lightly on the chords as he stared towards the back of the room. "This song is for my future girlfriend."

Rachel checked out of the song immediately with a huff. Why didn't she think of serenading Quinn? Well, truthfully she _did_ think of it, but it would have been embarrassing and scary to sing a love song and stare creepily at the head Cheerio the whole time. Rachel may have been a lot of things, but through it all, she at least had her dignity and pride.

Puck strummed his guitar, crooning through a smirk, "_If you're horny, let's do it. Ride it, my pony_."

Quinn stood abruptly, her features pinched in annoyance as she stalked down the risers. The pleats of her skirt smacked against Rachel in misplaced rage as she stalked out of the room without a word. Puck's fingers struck a chord wrongly and a wretched sound, screeched through the air. Everyone winced from the sound as he turned towards the exit. He sighed, turning back to the group. "I guess it got too hot for her."

Rachel's hand shot up in the air. "Mr. Schuester, may I please use the restroom?"

"Sure," Mr. Schuester replied distractedly as he halfheartedly scolded Puck for singing such an inappropriate song.

Rachel sprang from her seat quickly, exiting the choir room. She walked down the empty hallway to the nearest bathroom and slipped inside, shutting the door behind her.

Quinn stood hunched over a sink with her hands braced tightly around it, taking deep breaths.

Rachel approached her slowly. "Are you alright?"

Tensed shoulders rolled back immediately. "Fine," Quinn replied gruffly. She stood erect, leaning towards the mirror to admire her make-up. "Puck's just an idiot. Nothing new there."

Rachel smiled slowly, daring to take a couple of steps closer. "That song was…really inappropriate."

Quinn scoffed. "Yeah."

"I-I'm sorry if he made you uncomfortable." She swallowed nervously, fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater. "I know how much you value abstaining from sex and with how sexualized society is today, I imagine it to be difficult to have sex shoved in your face all the time when you don't want it."

Quinn was quiet for a long time, staring at herself in the mirror. Rachel thought it vain, but didn't protest. "I'm not interested in having sex with boys," Quinn finally muttered. "Especially morons like Puck who'll just use me and toss me aside for popularity like he did every other girl on my squad."

Her tone was biting and chilling, sending a shiver down Rachel's spine. She nodded dumbly, not really knowing how to respond to such a powerful statement. She stared down at the deep maroon tiled floors of the bathroom for a moment, the faint stench from all the stalls combined reaching her nose. She stepped towards the closest one, hoping to close it when something caught her attention. It was a now faint, barely there drawing of herself. The janitors must have been trying for months to wash this off. The drawing itself was weirdly sophisticated as if the artist had taken some time on it. It was lewd and even more inappropriate than the song Puck had been singing in glee club. And, for someone who claimed to not think of sex at all, the artist managed to make the drawing itself _very_ vulgar and sexual. Rachel's lips ticked upwards a fraction as her fingers traced over the drawing. "You never did tell me why you drew these," she said quietly, knowing Quinn would hear her regardless.

Quinn's eyes shifted focus until she was looking at Rachel through the mirror. Her eyes widened the barest hint in surprise, cheeks burning. Her jaw shifted back and forth in annoyance before her gaze dropped, dismissing the comment.

Rachel pulled away from the stall door when it became obvious she wasn't going to receive a response. She locked eyes with Quinn in the mirror, approaching slowly when it didn't look like Quinn was close to strangling the nearest person anymore. Rachel stopped just behind her, peering over Quinn's left shoulder to make eye contact through the mirror. She inhaled a deep breath, before quietly stating, "I was wondering if I could come over your house today after school. I still need help in geometry."

It wasn't a _complete_ lie—mostly she just wanted to get into Quinn's home one last time to see if things were just a fluke or if they were really going to kiss once and for all. But some help in improving her geometry grade more wouldn't hurt either.

Quinn's lips stretched into a dangerous smirk as she eyed Rachel through the mirror. Her eyes sparkled mischievously before she turned around to face Rachel fully. "You need help in geometry?" she asked, voice smooth and throaty, but wholly unconvinced of Rachel's lie.

Rachel did her best to maintain eye contact. "Yes."

Quinn licked her lips slowly, pushing off the sink and up onto Rachel. She stared down at her in amusement as Rachel gasped for breath. "Because you suck at math."

She smiled at their old banter, watching cruel amusement flicker in Quinn's eyes. "Because I suck at math."

Quinn hummed softly, biting her bottom lip. Her eyes squinted as she thought the situation over and Rachel watched quietly, eyeing the bottom lip held hostage and wanting to take it between her own. Finn had said Quinn was an awesome kisser and Rachel wanted nothing more to experience that for herself. Her body swayed forward slightly on its own as if Quinn's body heat was calling out to her.

A moment later Quinn focused back on her with a devilish grin. "I'll tutor you."

Rachel smiled in relief. "Lovely."

"Tomorrow."

"W-what?" she sputtered.

Quinn's smiled widened impossibly, her lips curling meanly. "Tomorrow."

"Why not tonight?"

She shrugged. "I'm busy."

Rachel resisted the urge to stomp her foot petulantly. Quinn _always_ insisted on teasing and it was starting to wear thin on her mental health. "What if I'm busy tomorrow?"

Another shrug. "Then I guess we'll have to wait until the day after."

The day after was no good. By then Quinn could easily be in Noah Puckerman's arms, strolling down the hallway as the new it couple. Then again, that could happen tomorrow, too, but Quinn was once again in one of her moods and Rachel didn't see any way to dissuade her. "Fine," she grumbled. "Tomorrow."

Quinn smirked victoriously, staring down at Rachel. She swayed forward slightly until nothing but hazel eyes and pink lips swam in Rachel's vision. Then, like magic, Quinn was gone, walking towards the exit.

Rachel huffed as she stared after her. Quinn's little sensual storm outs were starting to get old.


	10. Chapter 10

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

**A/N:**A lot of you comment/have commented in the past about how you appreciate that Rachel is the one coming to terms with her sexuality in this story because usually it's Quinn. I just want to say that I appreciate your appreciation, haha. It's been an interesting/different and fun perspective to write from—Rachel not necessarily wanting to deal with her sexuality, but eventually having to. And it's even more fun to write Quinn's actions without the thought process behind it. Sometimes I write something and wonder to myself what Quinn is thinking as well. Anyway, tl;dr, thank you. :)

* * *

><p>The words: 'I'm not interested in having sex with boys,' didn't register in Rachel's head right away yesterday. But when it did, it was all she thought about. The thought didn't even occur to her until she got home and she reasoned her brain was protecting her, knowing she would spend the rest of the glee club meeting over analyzing all the ways that sentence gave her hope instead of concentrating on her not-ballad-for-Quinn with the song entitled <em>You Are So Beautiful<em>. It was quite easy to pull off considering everyone in the club knew of her amazing ego already.

When those words _did_ register, however, she was on her bed, lying on her stomach and kicking her feet in the air to the rhythm of the song emanating from her ear buds at a comfortable volume while she was doing her homework. She stopped, paused her guilty pleasure song, _I Believe in a Thing Called Love_ and stopped moving all together because Quinn was _not_ interested in having sex with _boys_. It didn't even matter if that wasn't literally what she had meant at the time. Rachel had brought a hand to her mouth and giggled girlishly because once again Quinn _wasn't_ interested in _sex_ with _boys_. She had made a tune in her head to fit along with those words and sang herself to sleep with that thought.

Right now, she was in the car on the way to Quinn's house and the ride felt like it was taking forever. Rachel busied herself with looking out the window at the numerous trees they were passing. They were driving towards the high end of Lima, where the doctors and lawyers lived. Rachel didn't really know what Quinn's father did for a living but it was obvious Quinn came from money—the spoiled, rich girl persona just under the surface of Quinn's personality was enough of a tip off. Quinn always wanted things her way and Rachel reasoned it was because she was used to getting her way all the time. Like tutoring Rachel on Friday instead of yesterday…

Which was really weird because Friday was date night. Lima may have been a little ass-backwards when it came to teen life compared to popular teen dramas such as The O.C. and One Tree Hill, but it had a pretty nice mall, a couple of movie theaters, and a make-out point. All three of which were frequented any given Friday night by high school couples and the occasional middle school couple.

Rachel had never seen anything weird about being over Quinn's house last Friday night because Quinn wasn't dating anyone. She technically wasn't dating anyone _now_, but considering she and Puck were supposed to be getting cozy, Rachel found it odd that Quinn wanted this night of all nights to tutor her. She clutched her bag tighter against her side as she sighed, continuing to stare out of the window. She was going to kiss her once and for all before she left that damn house.

The car slowed and Rachel perked up, looking ahead as Leroy pulled smoothly into the driveway. The car came to a stop and she bit her lip pensively as the engine quieted to a dull purr.

"Dad, daddy?"

They both turned around to face her.

Rachel shifted nervously with a shaky smile. "I intend to make my feelings for Quinn known tonight. However, should I end up with my heart crushed into tiny pieces, I want the two of you to be there for me."

They both smiled and Hiram reached forward to pat her knee in support. "We'll always be here."

"Go get her, Rachel," Leroy said with a wink.

She blushed, but thanked them and opened the door to step out of the car. She slid her bag along her shoulder. Waving goodbye to them, she walked up to Quinn's door, knocking on it.

The door opened quicker than it did last time and Quinn stood there staring at her for a moment. "Hi."

She sounded almost shy to which Rachel just grinned goofily at her, because Quinn had never sounded quite like this. "Good evening, Quinn."

Quinn smiled a little and stepped aside to let Rachel in. The door shut behind her and she leaned against, waiting for Rachel to take her coat off and reaching for it.

Rachel stepped aside as Quinn put her coat away, eyeing the clothes she had on—a black pair of shorts not much longer than the ones she wore last time and a white tank top. Her eyes traced from her shoulders down to the dip of her back, the curve of her ass, down her thighs and finally ended at her feet. Quinn cleared her throat pointedly and Rachel's gaze popped back up, completely unapologetic. Rachel wanted to test her, see how Quinn would react now that they weren't at school.

But Quinn did little more than flash a coy smile before turning around and walking away. Her hips had an exaggerated sway to them that drove Rachel absolutely insane as she followed her through the house. They stopped at the archway to the living room, but Quinn never ventured in, leaning against the frame and peering into the room to call out, "We're studying in my room." It was said very deliberately, some heavy message behind it that Rachel could guess, but ultimately didn't know about.

"Yeah, yeah," Santana called from around the corner.

"Have fun, Q," Brittany's voice rang out. "Hi, Rachel!"

"Hi, Brittany," Rachel said around a smile, glad for that little bit of acceptance. She wore a bemused expression when Quinn turned back around to face her. "I didn't know studying could be fun...?"

Quinn stood there for a moment staring at her before she slowly said, "It _can_ be." Then she slid past Rachel, walking up the stairs.

Rachel scrambled to follow.

They walked down a long, dark hallway that led to a light at the end of it. The light was coming from Quinn's room, which was at least twice the size of Rachel's as she walked into it. There was a queen sized bed with a dramatic Victorian bedframe. She could hear the door close behind her as she stared at Quinn's bed and a shiver rolled down her spine. Her bed sheets were stark white and looked fluffy as Rachel continued to stare at it in wonder. This was where Quinn slept every single night. This was where the magic happened. Or _didn't_ happen, according to Finn.

"Hope you like it," Quinn said softly from somewhere at her side. Rachel turned to see Quinn walking toward her bed and sitting down. She hazarded a few steps closer until she was standing in front of Quinn. "Your bed?" Rachel asked.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "My room, Berry."

"Oh," she breathed, allowing her eyes to sweep over the large room. The first thing she noticed was that, "There's no TV."

Quinn reclined back against her pillows, both hands tucked behind her head for more support. "I don't really watch TV."

But she read a lot, if the bookcase full of text in the corner of her room was anything to go by. Rachel approached it slowly, unsure if she was allowed to explore Quinn's room but unable to calm her curiosity. Her fingers ghosted over the many books on the bookshelf, eyebrow quirking up as she plucked one from the shelf. She smiled adoringly. "_The Heidi Chronicles_?"

Quinn sat up and opened her mouth immediately with a retort, but she closed it. After a moment, she reluctantly eased back into the position she was in. "I'm a bit of a feminist."

Rachel nodded, an approved hum tickling her throat as she put the book back. "I would have never guessed."

"Why, because you think I'm some dumb blonde cheerleader?"

"No, I—"

"Just teasing you," Quinn said with a quirk of her lips. "Stop being so uptight."

Rachel frowned. "I'm not being uptight. I just—this is new…hanging out with you and being in your room."

"Do you like it?" Quinn asked tentatively.

Her heart fluttered at the question and the undertone of hesitant care lacing Quinn's voice. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she continued to survey the room. There was a flatiron atop her dresser, which would explain the beautiful blonde curls cascading over Quinn's shoulders and down her back. She looked towards her vanity. Eyeshadow, mascara and various lip glosses were strewn about, though Quinn looked to not have much of anything on besides a lip gloss that shined her lips and made Rachel want to taste them. She inhaled deeply, looking upwards towards the few pictures that hung on Quinn's wall. Oddly enough, there weren't any of Quinn, Santana, and Brittany. Rachel was half expecting to see a picture of Quinn with Finn or Puck, but there weren't any photos of them either. There were exactly three photos—one with Quinn by herself and two with her and a slightly older looking woman who looked just like her. Rachel pointed to the picture, turning towards Quinn. "Is she your sister?"

Quinn nodded. "Her name is Frannie."

"I assume she's older," Rachel mused as she turned back to the photos. They looked alike, not overly so but in a way in which one could tell they were sisters.

"She is."

Rachel turned back around to face Quinn, clasping her hands in front of her. "Does she still live in Lima?"

Quinn shook her head. "She hasn't lived here for a couple of years."

The conversation lulled from there and Rachel stood awkwardly at the end of Quinn's bed, not really sure where she was allowed to sit. Eventually with a roll of her eyes, Quinn asked her, "Are you going to stand there and stare at me all day, or are you going to sit on the bed?"

Rachel licked her lips nervously. This was it. Homework completely forgotten, she walked to the other side of the bed and gingerly sat down, pressing her legs together and folding her hands in her lap as she rested against the headboard. She took one look at Quinn and blushed with a sheepish smile, ducking her head to stare at her hands.

Quinn slowly sat up as well. She rested against the headboard beside Rachel until their shoulders were almost touching and drew her legs closer, resting her chin on her knees. "Did you really come here to study geometry?"

The question didn't sound nearly as suggestive as Quinn's tone of voice yesterday when she had asked a similar question. It sounded so uncharacteristically innocent, and unassuming. Rachel fidgeted with the hem of her skirt nervously as she mulled over the question. "I suppose help would be beneficial," she mumbled.

Quinn turned to look at her. "But you didn't come here for me to tutor you in math."

It wasn't a question and thus, Rachel didn't feel the need to answer. She bit her lip and continued to stare pointedly at her hands. Who was she kidding? She was entirely too nervous to kiss Quinn the way she wanted to, and was wasting both of their time sitting here pretending otherwise. Her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Puck asked me out," Quinn started a moment later in a tone of voice Rachel had yet to recognize.

"I know," she replied shortly. Of all the things she could sit here and talk about with Quinn for hours on end, this wasn't one of them.

Quinn scoffed derisively. "Of course you know. The whole damn school knows."

"I'm sorry?" Rachel voiced with a confused inflection. She really didn't have a clue why Quinn was suddenly so upset.

There was a shrug that bumped against her left shoulder as Quinn said, "Don't be sorry. People gossip, and I guess having my name in everyone's mouth—good or bad—is better than not being talked about at all, you know?"

"Yes," Rachel reluctantly agreed with after a moment. She both loved and loathed that, at their simplest forms, she and the most popular girl in school had the same base need: to be known and appreciated. Rachel had always considered being anonymous as worse than being poor, worse than _anything_ and though she hated the fact that Quinn was constantly chasing her popularity, she could empathize wholeheartedly. "But if what everyone is saying bothers you, then perhaps you should try to keep your personal life private."

"You'd think I'd know how to do that considering the family I come from," Quinn grumbled more to herself than to Rachel who had no idea what to make of that statement.

Rachel smiled reassuringly, scooting closer until they were shoulder to shoulder. "For what it's worth, none of these rumors make me think any less of you."

"What _do_ you think of me?"

She panicked at the question, looking away as her heart sped up. Was she supposed to be completely honest, or give a generic answer and bury her feelings? She teetered between both answers as she finally spoke. "I think…I think you're really pretty, Quinn."

Quinn blinked in surprise at the blunt statement, then smiled, almost shyly, before she too avoided eye contact for a brief moment.

"But I'd like to know if there is more to you than that," Rachel continued quietly, feeling emboldened by the dust of pink coating Quinn's cheeks.

Quinn inhaled a deep breath. She stared at her flexed hands for a moment before looking back to Rachel with a beautiful smile. "Why don't you have a girlfriend?"

"W-what do you mean?" Rachel blurted anxiously, completely caught off guard by the question.

"You're nice," Quinn said softly. "Girls like that. And, I don't know, I guess I figured you'd have one by now. I mean—" Quinn's eyes flitted around her face, then down her body briefly, "—you aren't bad looking." Her lips quirked up teasingly. "If you dressed better, you'd be cute."

Rachel scowled at her and Quinn chuckled. "My wardrobe is just fine. And I _am_ cute," she replied with a huff.

Quinn laughed a little harder before she sobered up, looking at Rachel with that same smile firmly planted onto her features. Rachel could fall in love with that smile. Quinn scooted down along the bed, lying down the way she was minutes before with her hands resting under her head as she angled her head to look up at Rachel. "Well, what about this girl you like?"

Rachel stared at Quinn's thighs for a moment too long before she forced herself to look away. "What girl?"

"Don't play stupid, Rachel."

Rachel sighed. "I don't think she likes me back."

Quinn turned over onto her stomach. She rested on her elbows and stared down at her fingers. "How would you know? Did you ask her?"

Instantly Rachel wondered if they were talking about the same person. Slowly, very slowly she scooted down further along the bed, mimicking Quinn's position. She stared at Quinn's fingers as they played with each other. Her heart thumped loudly against her chest because she felt like she was on the precipice of something great. She just wished she knew how to proceed from here. No one had given her advice on how to actually _be_ with a girl, if this was in fact going in the direction she thought.

"I haven't asked her," she whispered back. "I'm scared to."

Quinn swayed closer, dragging her eyes higher until they met Rachel's own. "Have you ever even kissed a girl?"

Rachel shook her head dumbly.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Then how do you know you like girls?"

She exhaled shakily, her body buzzing in surprise at having this conversation with Quinn. "Because girls are…less hairy," she breathed with a shaky laugh. "And softer."

Quinn scooted closer, brow furrowing as she quietly asked, "Have you ever touched a girl before?"

Her brain completely fried at the question and how it was rasped from Quinn's lips. Lips that seemed to be getting closer every few seconds. Rachel stared at them, her own lips parted to grab more air for her lungs because it felt so suffocating to be on Quinn's bed with Quinn so close they were touching nearly everywhere. And she smelled so good, like flowers and ripe fruit that Rachel had the urge to bite in to. Her tongue dragged slowly along her lower lip as she tried to control herself. "I have not touched another girl, no."

"Then how do you know?"

She was far too gone to continue their debate and settled on a shoulder shrug. "I suppose I don't."

The next thing she felt was a feather light touch against her fingers. She gasped quietly, looking down as Quinn covered her hand, curling her fingers around it and lifting it to her face. Rachel inhaled shakily as the palm of her hand came into contact with smooth, pale skin. Quinn was _so_ _hot_ all the damn time; it didn't seem humanly possible to be this warm and have it be healthy. She watched as her thumb stroked Quinn's slowly flushing cheek reverently. Her eyebrows slanted in confusion but she couldn't be bothered to question this moment.

"How do I feel?" Quinn rasped.

Rachel finally peeled her eyes away from her fingers now trailing down Quinn's jawline. She met darkening hazel eyes, green engulfing her irises until they turned olive. She swallowed thickly. "You feel so soft, Quinn," she whispered, almost mystified. Her eyes drifted up to her fingers gingerly tracing along Quinn's right eyebrow. They were perfectly manicured and arched, darker than her hair color in a way that made Quinn all the more alluring.

When she traced back down Quinn's jawline, close to the dimple in her chin that she loved, Quinn grabbed her hand. Rachel waited anxiously for whatever reprimand she felt was coming to her.

"Can I touch you, too?" Quinn asked quietly.

It took a while for her brain to comprehend the question but her head was already nodding her consent. Quinn had the most adorable thoughtful pout on her face Rachel had ever seen as she reached forward, cupping her face just as gently as she had a week prior right before they almost kissed. A thumb stroked her cheek and she sighed, her body sagging and leaning into Quinn's touch. "You're really warm," Quinn whispered.

Rachel rolled her eyes internally; Quinn couldn't afford to talk about someone else being hot. Long, nimble fingers trailed from her cheek down her jaw, and a small sound slipped past Rachel's lips as those ticklish feelings continued toward the back of her neck. Quinn played with the wisps of hair there as brown eyes fluttered and closed.

She felt Quinn lean closer, warm puffs of air being exhaled shakily against her jaw. "What would you say if I told you I wanted to kiss you?"

"Please," Rachel immediately whispered.

The next thing she felt were the softest lips being pressed against her own. She moaned instantly, tingles fanning out along her body from her point of contact with Quinn. It travelled down her spine and weakened the muscles in her body as she leaned closer. She was kissing Quinn. Quinn Fabray, President of the Celibacy Club, Head Cheerio, the prettiest girl Rachel had ever met—she was kissing _that_ Quinn, here, now in _Quinn's_ bed.

Did life get much better than this? Probably not.

Far too soon, Quinn pulled back. Rachel's eyes fluttered open as she licked her lips, tasting cherry lip gloss from Quinn's lips. Quinn mimicked her action, probably tasting Rachel's strawberry lip gloss before her eyes fluttered shut and she kissed Rachel again. Gone was the hesitancy of the first kiss. Long fingers gripped the back of Rachel's neck and pulled her closer as Quinn tilted her head, sliding their lips together in a way that tugged at Rachel. Her fingers fisted into plush white bed sheets, unsure if she was allowed to touch Quinn or not.

After a moment, Quinn shifted focus to her bottom lip. She sucked on it softly and Rachel's jaw dropped with a quiet moan. Nothing had ever felt this good before. Then Quinn pressed their bodies together, leaning heavily against her and Rachel got the point. She leaned back, resting her head against the pillows as Quinn settled on top of her, never once breaking contact.

Her hands flailed at her sides with uncertainty and she tensed in nervousness at not having enough experience in this area. This was exactly what she had been afraid of when it came to making out with Quinn. Her hands settled lightly on the back of a white tank top as Rachel stood still, afraid to move anything other than her lips.

Soft lips left her own and Rachel licked her lips when the cold air smacked against them. She shivered at Quinn's throaty chuckle. Quinn stared down at her with a flush to her cheeks, perfect even teeth trapping her swollen bottom lip in amusement. "You're a stiff kisser."

Rachel flushed in embarrassment. "I don't mean to be," she said softly.

Quinn sighed as she shifted her weight to one hand, grabbing Rachel's from its death grip on her back and positioning it low on her waist. She did the same with the other, then rested on both hands on the bed again to hover over Rachel. "It's okay," she breathed lazily. "You'll learn."

She'll learn?

That was the only thought floating in Rachel's mind before Quinn obliterated it the second she kissed her again. A hand rose to cup her cheek softly as Quinn's kisses became more aggressive. Rachel sunk into the mattress as the lithe form above her pressed impossibly closer. Every curve Quinn had pressed against Rachel warmly and she rose up to be closer, gripping Quinn's hips more surely than she had a second prior. She was rewarded with a quiet moan that vibrated in the back of Quinn's throat and liquefied low in Rachel's stomach.

Rachel panted softly against Quinn's lips. She could feel her own lips become more sensitive to every sensation the longer they kissed and it was driving her insane. Then something smooth slid along her bottom lip and she groaned loudly when she realized it was Quinn's tongue stroking broadly against her. She still couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that this was all happening. She was making out with the most popular girl in school. More importantly, she was making out with the girl she had had a crush on for weeks and it was _glorious_.

Quinn bit her bottom lip softly when she didn't respond and Rachel whimpered, lips parting to allow Quinn entry. Her tongue slipped inside and slid along Rachel's before arching up and stroking the roof of her mouth. Rachel moaned, shifting below Quinn as her hands squeezed at her hips. Quinn's hand left her face and weaved through her hair, holding Rachel tightly in place as her tongue explored the inside of her mouth.

Rachel's thumb stroked Quinn's hip back and forth. Her shirt had ridden up and the first touch of bare skin had them both moaning at the contact. Quinn pulled back, panted quick breaths, and dove right back in. Rachel continued rubbing circles deeply into her skin. She dragged her fingernail slowly across and Quinn bit her lip, moaning as her hips shifted slightly. The pressure threw Rachel completely off balance because it felt so _good_ and new.

Quinn pulled back immediately. She stared down at Rachel, eyes glazed and cheeks flushed, then slowly crawled off of her. Rachel sat up slowly, watching the way Quinn's hand shook as she ran it through her slightly tousled hair. She avoided eye contact for a few painstaking seconds as Rachel had silent mild panic attacks.

She didn't think she'd ever be able to wrap her mind around the fact that she had just made out with Quinn Fabray. And it was so deliciously good. Her body still felt weak as she stared at how swollen Quinn's lips were, physical proof of what they had just done.

As if on cue, Quinn licked her lips, turning slowly to look at Rachel. Rachel smiled at the blush on her cheeks. "You look beautiful," she said softly with wide, earnest eyes.

It looked like Quinn was reluctant to smile, but she did anyway, and Rachel bit her lip, stifling a squeal at how cute she looked in this moment. "Thank you."

Rachel scooted closer when it looked like the coast was clear. "Forgive me if this sounds crude but, why did you stop?"

Quinn gestured vaguely between the two of them, dropping her gaze as she muttered, "Because things like this always lead to more."

Rachel licked her dry lips absentmindedly. "Well…you should rest assured in knowing that I'm not ready for sex, if that was what you were alluding to. Things wouldn't have gone much farther than kissing."

Quinn shrugged. "Even still. It needed to stop."

Her words sliced through the fog of happiness Rachel felt instantly and she felt herself deflate, falling back to earth from amongst the stars. And it only took about three minutes for Quinn to go and ruin everything. "Do you regret it?" she asked hesitantly.

"I don't know," Quinn responded, finally meeting Rachel's gaze. She looked confused and scared as she shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know what that was or what it meant, so if that's your next question, please don't ask it."

Well, there went _that_ question. Rachel nodded, not really sure how to proceed from here. All she knew was that she had enjoyed making out with Quinn more than she enjoyed any other kind of physical affection she had received in the past. Not that she had received much, or from multiple people, only Finn and an overactive boy in the second grade on the playground. Not much experience, but she knew a good thing when she felt it and what she had just shared with Quinn surpassed good by a mile.

"Did you enjoy it?" Rachel asked, trying to keep her voice even when her insides felt rattled.

Quinn took a deep breath and held it. She angled her body further away from Rachel and seemed to close in on herself.

"Okay," Rachel breathed shakily after a moment. She smoothed down her skirt as she slid off the bed. Her eyes stung with stupid tears and her legs felt like jelly when she licked her dry lips and tasted something unfamiliar that was all Quinn. "Well, I—thank you for allowing me to come over, umm…" She stopped talking when her voiced cracked, refusing to cry while she was in Quinn's presence. "If you don't want me to come over again, I understand."

"Rachel, I'm not trying to be mean to you here," Quinn choked out as Rachel began walking towards the door.

She stopped short, staring down at her hands. "All I wanted to know was if you enjoyed it."

"I shouldn't have enjoyed it," Quinn replied tersely.

"That wasn't my question."

A knock on the door startled them both. Rachel jumped back as if a monster was on the other side. "Berry's fathers are here, so get your asses out!"

Rachel silently cursed herself, then looked to her bag. She walked swiftly towards it, fishing out her phone to be greeted by three missed calls. Her phone had been on vibrate this entire time. She slapped a hand to her forehead, picking up her bag and sliding it on her shoulder. When she turned back around, Quinn was there, gently cupping her face and leaning down to kiss her. Rachel tensed, caught off guard, but immediately relaxed and fell into the smooth rhythm she and Quinn had spent the last twenty minutes cultivating. This time when Quinn dragged her tongue along the seam of her lips, she welcomed it easily, sliding hers along the one in her mouth. After a few seconds of desperate kisses, Quinn pulled back. Her gaze flicked around Rachel's face for a few seconds before she turned around and walked towards the door.

Rachel followed, feeling positively buzzed as she bounded down the steps with her bag. Santana and Brittany were waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs with shit eating grins on their faces. Quinn pointedly ignored them, walking towards the door. Rachel lingered, feeling a bit smug as Santana's eyebrows shot up in muted surprise.

"I didn't think she'd actually do it," Santana muttered to Brittany as Rachel turned away. Whether she was talking about her or Quinn, Rachel didn't know.

When she walked into the little hallway before the door, Quinn handed her her coat, staring at her as Rachel put it on. Rachel offered a friendly smile. Quinn balled her lips up before pursing them thoughtfully. She was always thinking, it seemed. About what, Rachel feared she'd never know. "Thank you for inviting me over."

Quinn gave an amused snort with a roll of her eyes. "I didn't."

Rachel scowled up at her and Quinn smiled slowly before turning towards the door. She held it open and Rachel walked outside into a temperature that seemed hundreds of degrees lower than the scorching temperature of Quinn's room. "Have a good night, Quinn," she said warmly, before walking away.

"See you later, Rachel."

Rachel slid into the backseat of the car with a wistful sigh as Leroy began to pull away. Quinn didn't have to answer right away if she didn't want to; her feelings were starting to become abundantly clear to Rachel.

"I'm assuming studying went well?" Hiram asked.

Her head lolled to the side to face him. She smiled dreamily. "Dad, I think I'm in love."

"Oh, boy," Leroy muttered from the driver's seat. "You're in trouble now."


	11. Chapter 11

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

* * *

><p>Let the record show that, for whatever reason, Quinn Fabray didn't half ass anything. Rachel's lips were still tingling a day later as she lied in her bed and stared at the ceiling. She had never been in love before, but she was pretty sure what she felt for Quinn was unconditional and all consuming. The only problem was she wasn't sure if Quinn felt the same way. But she was pretty sure Quinn liked her in some way because she had allowed Rachel over to her house twice, one time when she tried to kiss her, and the other time, yesterday, when she <em>did<em> kiss her. Quinn had said she didn't know what it meant, but she didn't say it didn't mean anything. For now that was enough.

Rachel couldn't even begin to wonder where Quinn learned how to be such an amazing kisser. There was no way celibacy club taught that. And there was no way she had learned it from Finn because Quinn clearly knew how to work her tongue effectively whereas Finn would sort of just thrust his into Rachel's mouth, then flatten it and practically asphyxiate her.

Maybe she had learned from Puck. He was really experienced and probably a good kisser. But according to Finn who had heard from Puck, he and Quinn had only made out twice. Not enough to learn the technique Quinn had mastered. Maybe she had made out with other boys.

The door to her room creaked open and her head lolled to the side to see Finn standing in the doorway. She grinned immediately.

Finn's eyes squinted in suspicion as he slowly approached the bed. "Your dad told me you've been up here all day and…why are you looking at me like that?"

"Quinn kissed me," she whispered blissfully as Finn sat down on the bed. Saying it aloud made it feel so surreal.

Finn stared down at her in disbelief. "You're lying."

Her smile grew. She sat up to face him. "I'm not. She kissed me yesterday while I was over her house."

"Holy shit. This is—" he wracked his brain in an attempt to find the right word. "This is kinda hot. How'd it happen? Did she get all aggressive and totally top you? Because she's so hot when she does that."

It was weird—and not in a good way—to have Finn talk about Quinn's make out techniques with so much knowledge, but she reasoned if she was going to constantly throw around the fact that Quinn was somewhat into her now then she could at least tolerate the fact that Finn had stories as well.

"Kind of. We were just lying on her bed and talking for a little while, then she asked me what I would say if she said she wanted to kiss me, and I told her please." She sighed delightfully. "Finn, it was amazing. Amazing. Where did she learn to kiss like that? She's such a great kisser. Can you believe I made out with Quinn Fabray? _The_ Quinn Fabray. I mean, two months ago, I wasn't even out of the closet and now I'm macking on Quinn. And she said I would be cute if I dressed better, which I'm not going to because there's nothing wrong with the way that I dress, but that's neither here nor there. Anyway, I'm pretty sure she totally wants all up on this, because—"

"Woah, wait, slow down," Finn said with a breathless laugh as if _he_ had been the one talking a mile a minute. "So, are the two of you together or something?"

Rachel deflated instantly, remembering how Quinn had burst her bubble right after they made out yesterday. "No," she grumbled. "Quinn says she's not sure what it meant."

"Ouch," he responded with a cringe. "Doesn't sound too good."

"I know that," she griped.

"What are you gonna do?"

She plopped back on her bed to stare at the barely there cracks in her ceiling. "I guess…she and I should talk, shouldn't we?"

Finn scoffed. "Yeah, well…I've been telling you that for a while now. But you're acting all scared."

"I _am_ scared," she said softly. "What if she doesn't like me?"

"She's going through a lot for 'not liking you' though."

Rachel smiled dryly as she angled her head to look at Finn. "What happened to 'she's not gay, Rach'?"

He rolled his eyes with a laugh. "She started making out with you, that's what."

* * *

><p>"This just in, ladies and gentlemen," Jacob shrieked into his microphone in the middle of the hallway, "Quinn Fabray has turned Noah Puckerman down." A collective gasp could be heard as a group began forming around Jacob. Rachel stood at her locker, away from the mass of people, listening intently, yet feeling guilty for listening to what should have been a private matter between Quinn and Puck. Jacob was obviously only running the story to boost his own short lived popularity before he would go back to the bottom of the barrel where Rachel, too, resided.<p>

"That's right! You heard it here first. Quinn Fabray is still a sexy, single woman and ladies, the 'Puckasaurus', as he calls himself, is still on the market, so break out those sweater puppies. That includes you, Rachel Berry."

She stiffened, instinctually hugging her books closer to her chest as a group of eyes suddenly rounded on her. Their attention was gone as soon as it came and the group dispersed after hearing Jacob's gossip.

Her phone started ringing and she fumbled to grab it from her bag. The caller I.D. read _Kurt_ and Rachel quickly flipped it open with a squeal. "Did you hear?"

"_Girl, yes. You better swoop in there_."

"Am I allowed?" she asked, looking around as if she were afraid someone could hear her conversation.

Kurt snorted on the other end of the phone. "_It's not like she's someone's property. Rachel, the girl's single and according to your words, she kissed you into the mattress two days ago. What more do you need?_"

"Okay, okay," she relented. A burly football player was about to walk right through her and she leapt back into the lockers before she got ran over. She leaned her head back, turning it to the side to find Quinn walking towards her locker. "She's at her locker right now."

"_Then quit sounding like a stalker on the phone with me and go say hi_."

"Bye." She clicked the phone shut, eyeing Quinn as she opened her locker. This was it, now or never. There was no telling what was going to come out of this conversation, but if Rachel didn't try something then her opportunity would be forever lost.

She bit her lip nervously, pushing off her locker in a surge of confidence she didn't really have as she walked down the hallway. She got shoulder checked a few times by people who failed to notice her but she simply scowled in their direction as she passed, continuing towards Quinn.

She was two lockers' distance away from her when Santana suddenly came up. She saddled up beside Quinn with ease that Rachel lacked and closed Quinn's locker door. Rachel heard her huff in annoyance and bit back a smile as Quinn turned to face Santana fully. "What do you want?"

Santana's brow furrowed with quick annoyance. "Hello to you, too, bitch."

Quinn sighed. "Sorry. Didn't mean to sound so rude."

Santana waved it off. "Don't worry about it. I'd have my thong halfway to my colon too, if I had the entire hallway crowded around Jewfro to find out who I'm spreading my legs for."

Rachel stiffened at how crude Santana was, noticing Quinn did too before she said, "I'm not spreading _anything_ for _anyone_."

A lopsided smirk tugged up a corner of Santana's mouth. "Sure, Q." Her eyes slid to focus behind Quinn's shoulder and Rachel tensed when Santana stared directly at her. "Eavesdrop much?"

Quinn's shoulders pulled taut as she whirled around to face Rachel. The annoyed expression on her face lessened slowly. Rachel stood stock still, feeling like a deer caught in headlights as her eyes shifted focus between Quinn's widened eyes and the knowing smirk on Santana's face. "This is so good."

Rachel blushed and Quinn turned back around to face Santana. She pitched her voice lower, mumbling something that Rachel didn't catch. But if the way Santana's lips pulled down into an irritated frown was any indication, it wasn't good. "Ugh, you suck the fun out of everything," she complained, whipping her ponytail exaggeratedly as she turned around and sauntered down the hallway, hips swaying to catch nearly every boy's attention.

The clang of a locker caught Rachel's attention and she focused back on Quinn who had reopened her locker for some unknown reason. Rachel took a cautious step closer. "Hi," she murmured.

"Hey," Quinn shot back, not once removing her head from within her locker.

Rachel cleared her throat nervously, feeling like she was having a conversation with herself because Quinn wasn't even looking at her. "How are you today?" she tried again.

Quinn paused. Slowly, she removed herself from her locker and focused on Rachel. Quinn clutched her books to her chest in a way Rachel could recognize from when she herself did it when she was feeling insecure or unsure about something. "I'm fine," Quinn said quietly.

"Okay, that's good." She risked taking a step closer, watching the anxious way Quinn bit her lip as her gaze dipped away before making eye contact again. "Can we talk?"

"About what?"

"You know what, Quinn," Rachel said softly. "Look, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable or anything, but you can't just kiss me then act like it didn't happen."

Quinn turned back to her locker. She didn't move, just stared at it with pinched features. Rachel couldn't be sure if she was angry or just scared, but she was becoming more nervous the less Quinn spoke.

"Can we—"

"I'll think about it," Quinn cut in with a tone of voice that clearly meant she had final say on the matter.

Rachel bit her lip nervously as she took another step closer. She wanted to reach out and touch Quinn so badly. Rest a reassuring hand on her shoulder and tell her they were both in the same boat, confused and scared, run the back of her fingers down Quinn's arm in hopes that goosebumps of anticipation would break out on soft, milky skin. Instead, her fingers curled even tighter around her five subject notebook until the metal rings made indentations in the palm of her hand. "If it didn't mean anything, just tell me," she pleaded quietly, wanting to be put out of her misery.

"I can't say that," Quinn said, voice sounding quiet and strained, not at all like the liquid sex that coated it three days ago when she had Rachel pinned to her bed, kissing her senseless. Her eyes darted around the hallway as if she was about two seconds away from bolting.

"Then it did mean something?" Rachel asked hopefully.

Quinn angled her head to stare at her blankly. Her lips twisted for a moment before she said, "It didn't _not_ mean anything."

It took Rachel's brain a few seconds to work out the double negative of that sentence and she wondered if all girls were as complicated and confusing as Quinn. If so, then she was prepared to write a long letter of apology to Finn for her own behavior while the two of them had been dating because this was outright mind-boggling.

"Okay," she breathed softly. "This-this is good. I think. Then maybe we can talk later?"

"Right now I'm going to class," Quinn replied succinctly. "I can't deal with this right now."

Rachel didn't have a choice but to watch Quinn slam her locker shut and walk down the hallway. The Quinn she just had this conversation with was a far cry from the Quinn she had spent nearly a half hour making out with last Friday night. She sighed self-pityingly at the thought of possibly having her heart broken if she continued to dally with the most popular girl in school. But Quinn had this pull on her and she couldn't bring herself to resist it. Not even a little.

* * *

><p>A welcomed bright side to everything was that she was doing much better in geometry. Though she felt a twinge of sadness along with pride as her quiz, graded with the letter 'A', was handed back to her. She wouldn't really need Quinn's help studying anymore, which meant it was going to be even harder getting back into her house now.<p>

"What'd you get?" A girl from beside her leaned over to whisper. Her name was Molly, a classroom buddy Rachel had picked up. She was blonde, fully lived up to the airhead stereotype but was adorable with the cutest dimples.

Rachel smiled warmly. "Ninety-eight percent. How about you?"

She rolled her eyes, muttering, "Sixty-two."

"Perhaps you can consult your textbook more often for help," she said, trying to sound encouraging instead of condescending. When Molly smiled, Rachel assumed she had gotten her point across.

She flashed one more bright smile before leaning back over to her own desk. She stared down happily at her quiz grade.

* * *

><p>Rachel had never thought she'd look up to people like Santana and Brittany. But she did. She was nearly positive that they were together in some way, shape, or form and admired how affectionate they were with each other even in public. Despite their reputations possibly being on the line, they didn't seem to care. They would still hold hands, or link at the pinkies, hug whenever the mood struck, stand impossibly close as they talked to each other. Though she had never seen them kiss, and that thought alone made her realize that perhaps they cared about their reputations more than she had originally thought. Maybe girls were allowed to be affectionate to a certain degree. And as she stared at the other side of the hallway at Brittany stepping daringly closer to Santana who took a hesitant half step back, she realized more than ever that though they were obviously together to a person like her who could see all the signs, they were very careful about hiding it. It was a precarious dance that they had perfected in such a way that made her wonder how long they had been together.<p>

From across the hallway, Brittany turned to look at her. Rachel's spine straightened as she dumbly stared back, too stiff and scared because she had been caught to do much else. She watched Brittany turn away, leaning towards Santana and whispering something with a smile on her face. Santana turned towards her slowly and Rachel's heart sped up to pump loudly against her chest as the two of them began walking towards her. They came to stop directly in front of her. Brittany smiled brightly.

"What the hell were you staring at?" Santana asked.

"N-nothing," she stammered nervously. She ducked her head, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I don't want to have a confrontation with you."

"What's a confrontation?" Brittany whispered to Santana.

Rachel looked up in time to see Santana's features soften as she calmly addressed Brittany.

"Oh," Brittany murmured thoughtfully. Her eyes flickered to Rachel then back to Santana. "She totally knows about us."

Santana sighed and crossed her arms. "I know. I'm just trying to figure out how to handle this."

"You needn't worry," Rachel assured, scared of getting her ass kicked. "I won't tell anyone; I don't even have anyone to tell."

"True," Santana conceded. "You only have like, one friend."

Brittany laughed. "Yeah, and he's like, capital G gay."

Rachel nodded with a wry head tilt. "As you see, I have no one to tell. Your secret's safe with me."

"You gay?" Santana asked abruptly.

She nearly swallowed her tongue in surprise at the question. "Umm, well, I can't really say—"

"So, that's a yes," Santana said as she turned to Brittany.

"I'd totally do you if you dressed better and were popular," Brittany told her with a grin that looked oddly innocent considering what just came out of her mouth.

"Thank you, Brittany, though I'd have to decline. I'm not ready for sex."

"What about that 'girls want sex just as much as guys do' speech you gave in celibacy club?" Santana asked mockingly.

"They do," she admitted. "That is to say, _we_ do. I am a girl, after all. But I wouldn't want to engage in such an intimate act with a person unless I felt a strong attachment to them."

Santana grinned cruelly. "So, you'd bone Quinn?"

Her throat dried up at the question. "I—uh, well—"

"Don't have an aneurysm, Berry; it was just a question."

She forced herself to take deep breaths, reminding herself that Santana and Brittany already knew about her and Quinn making out, so there was nothing to hide. "Just because Quinn and I are…trying something new right now does not mean that I am ready for such an important step and I doubt she is either. She is the president of the celibacy club, after all."

"That club is a joke," Santana said with an indignant snort.

"Then why are you in it?"

"Because Quinn made us join," Brittany said. Beside her, Santana looked mildly embarrassed. "She said that the cheerleaders would look more wholesome if we joined the club."

Rachel rolled her eyes. Hard. Of course Quinn would try to perpetuate the image of high school cheerleaders being innocent as they jumped around during football games in provocatively short skirts. Everything that infuriating girl did was nothing but one giant tease.

"Nah, B. She's just been clutching her virgin pearls ever since she became popular and guys have been all over her." Santana scoffed quietly. "If I was in her position, I'd be screwing as many guys as I could."

Rachel blinked in confusion. "I thought you were gay," she whispered.

Santana shrugged.

Brown eyes slid over to Brittany. "Are you gay, too?" Rachel asked.

"I'm bilingual."

"Bisexual," Santana corrected gently.

Brittany grinned. "That one."

Rachel nodded. "And…Quinn?" she asked tentatively.

For some reason, that question made Santana double over with laughter. She clutched at her stomach and howled as Brittany rolled her eyes to the ceiling in exasperation though she giggled a little as well.

"What's so funny?" she asked curiously.

"It's…complicated," Brittany said.

"Not that complicated," Santana followed up with.

"Then you can offer an answer?" Rachel asked in what she hoped was subtle enthusiasm as she looked from Santana to Brittany.

"Not really," Brittany said.

"Why not?"

"You should come over my house," Santana blurted out, ignoring the question.

Rachel tried to take a step back in surprise but ended up slamming her head into the locker behind her. Brittany smiled amusedly as Santana cackled at her blunder. She frowned, blushing in embarrassment as she muttered, "For what?"

"I'm having a sleepover this weekend. Since you're gay, you can stay."

Rachel didn't really want to, or know how to trust such an invitation. But these were Quinn's friends who knew more about the confusing girl she was in love with than they were letting on. And she wanted to know. She wanted to know about Quinn; she wanted to bask in the Sapphic affection Santana and Brittany displayed, even more so when they were alone together.

"Will Quinn be there?" she asked.

Santana gave a shrug. "Sure."

She knew she was going to say yes before she even _did_ say yes because they were popular and lesbians and something she never thought she'd aspire to be but did.

Santana grinned. "Great. Come by Saturday night."

* * *

><p>The day dragged on rather slowly and she was thankful when it ended. The bell that signaled her freedom resounded and Rachel slipped from her desk, packing her books, and walking out of class. She hadn't been slushied in weeks and it had felt marvelous. She didn't want to delude herself into thinking Quinn cared enough about her to ask the jocks to call them off, but it was a possibility considering Quinn had saved her ass from Noah Puckerman that one time.<p>

She opened her locker and slipped her books inside, humming a little tune in her excitement for glee club.

"Rachel?"

She turned to her left to see Molly approaching her. A friendly smile pulled at her lips. "Good afternoon, Molly. How was your day?"

Molly stopped at the locker beside hers with a smile that dimpled her cheeks cutely. "It was good, thanks. So, listen, I was thinking about your awesome grade on the quiz and was wondering if you could tutor me in geometry."

An amused sound left her at the request. She was barely good in geometry herself and felt like tutoring the poor girl in front of her was like the blind leading the blind. "I would love to," she said with an apologetic smile. "But, you see, I received help in geometry—I'm not that good at it myself. Tutoring you would probably be setting you up for failure and—"

"Who is this?" a familiar voice asked as a shadow of a girl with her hands on her hips appeared on the locker between Rachel and Molly.

Rachel's mouth clacked shut, peering up to find Quinn staring down at her, lips pressed firmly together and brow furrowed. But so beautifully angry.

She cleared her throat, feeling an awkward situation creeping around the corner as she stuck her hand out, palm up and gestured towards Molly. "This is a classmate of mine from geometry—Molly. Molly, this is—"

"Quinn Fabray," the girl said as if awestruck. Rachel watched her practically fawn where she stood, knowing she herself probably looked that way often, but finding it stupid looking on anyone else. "You're totally the coolest girl in school. It's nice to meet you, Quinn."

Quinn stared at Molly for a long moment. Her eyes flicked critically all over her face and down her body as if sizing her up. "Hi," she finally replied, voice clipped and abrupt. Then she turned to Rachel fully, nearly blocking the other person to her left out of the conversation. "I need to talk to you. Alone," she said pointedly.

Rachel opened her mouth to respond, but Quinn clamped a hand down firmly on her wrist and pulled her along. "I-I'll see you later, Molly!" she called over her shoulder as she was pulled away. She watched all the passersby in the hallway watch her in concern as she was pulled along, probably thinking Quinn was in the process of beating her up. It was unsettling that no one was bothering to stop her.

They reached the bathroom and Quinn quickly shoved the door open and tugged Rachel inside. Rachel tumbled through the threshold. The next thing she felt was a hand firmly pressing into her sternum, backing her up until she was in a stall. She backed up as Quinn turned around to lock the stall, then whipped back around to face her. "Do you like her?" she asked brusquely.

"What?" Rachel asked confusedly. "Who?"

"_Molly_."

"No?" she said, still not following. Girls were so confusing.

Quinn's shoulders drooped at the admission. She took a step closer. "You're sure?" she asked hesitantly.

Understanding finally dawned on her and Rachel smiled reassuringly, nodding her head. "I'm sure, Quinn. I don't—"

Her sentence was swallowed completely by Quinn's mouth as it came crashing against her own. Her lips were softer than Rachel remembered, feather light yet firm, _there_ in a way that assured Rachel she wasn't making these instances up.

She was smoother this time, better at this as her hands rested on Quinn's hips lightly. Quinn tilted her head to the right, gliding their lips along one another with practiced ease. The smack of two hands being placed against the wall made Rachel moan unexpectedly and Quinn used the opportunity to slip her tongue inside.

It wasn't an invasion. It was the most welcomed intrusion Rachel could think of as her lips closed in around Quinn's tongue and sucked softly. It was incredibly unsanitary to make out in a public high school bathroom not to mention a little random, but none of those oddities mattered when Quinn Fabray was moaning quietly and stepping closer to press their bodies tightly together.

Rachel released her hold on Quinn's tongue and it retreated back too quickly for her liking. She reached up to gently cup Quinn's cheek. It was warm; Rachel imagined her face to be flushed red by now, looking lively and beautiful. Cautiously, she opened her mouth to catch Quinn's bottom lip between her teeth. She bit down experimentally and was rewarded with a breathy whimper that puffed out against her top lip and caused her stomach to tighten. She did it again as Quinn curled a hand around the back of her neck to hold her in place. Blunt nails raked down her neck to just under her sweater and she squirmed, moaning against the lip she was softly sucking on as shivers ran down her spine.

As abruptly as the last time, Quinn pulled away. Rachel watched her back away slowly with a telling blush, lips parted to pant more air into her lungs. She was too stunned to even say anything as Quinn fumbled with the lock behind her before quickly walking out of the stall. The door to the bathroom was heard shutting a moment later and Rachel sat down on the toilet lid before her shaky legs gave out from under her, wondering what the hell Quinn was doing.


	12. Chapter 12

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

**A/N: **I am always amazingly surprised by all the wonderful reviews you guys leave for this story. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

* * *

><p>"So, my dad totally knows I'm gay," Kurt sighed around a mouthful full of baked chips as he sat crossed legged, perched atop Rachel's bed. "Said he's known since I was three. How messed up is that?"<p>

Rachel giggled into a spoonful of Soy Delicious ice cream. "Kurt, honey, I love you but your sexuality is about as subtle as the way you think you're being when you ogle Finn."

He smirked. "Says the girl who stares after Quinn in the hallway as she walks away."

She predictably blushed and ducked her head to look down into the one serving carton Hiram had bought her at the grocery store. "She's just really pretty, okay?"

"Apparently." He closed the bag of chips and reclined back on Rachel's bed. "Anyway, I'm quitting the football team."

"Why?"

"Because my dad already knows I'm gay. And as much as I'd love to look at hot boys half naked in the locker room, the sweat and stench that comes from their pores isn't worth it."

Rachel snorted around another spoonful. "Told you guys were gross."

He turned over onto his side, resting his head in his hand. "How was talking to Quinn yesterday?"

"Embarrassing," Rachel groaned, gesturing in the air with her spoon. "Santana showed up at the same time I was going to talk to her. Then Quinn told me that she wasn't going to talk to me." She paused for a bit. "Then she ended up kissing me in the bathroom after school before glee club."

"Is that why you were staring at her and she was purposefully _not_ staring at you through _all_ of glee club?" Kurt asked. "Be more obvious, seriously."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "As far as everyone is concerned, Quinn is the straightest girl at McKinley and is completely uninterested in anything sexual." She jabbed her spoon into the carton of soft ice cream. "Honestly, if she wanted to go out and covertly experiment with her sexuality, she created the perfect cover to do so."

"Isn't that what she's already doing?" Kurt asked tentatively.

Her spoon dropped with a muffled clang into the carton of melting ice cream. Rachel ran a hand over her mouth, removing excess ice cream. Her fingers lingered on her bottom lip, remembering how fiery and passionate Quinn was both times she threw caution to the wind and kissed Rachel with abandon. "I don't want to be an experiment," she whispered sullenly.

"Then what do you want?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked, completely frazzled.

He shrugged, lifting onto his elbows to grab a spoonful of ice cream. "Maybe not."

* * *

><p>The sleepover was all she thought about. And though being around Quinn and her friends still made her nervous, she couldn't help but be drawn in. And the possibility of having her lips pressed up against Quinn's again, if she played her cards right, was too enticing to resist.<p>

She hoped that they would get the chance to talk, but if they didn't then the opportunity to simply kiss Quinn wasn't a bad option.

The bell signaling the end of homeroom sounded and Rachel slid out of her chair, hoisted her bag along her shoulder and walked out of the classroom. The hallway was crowded with students and Rachel sidestepped them all as she ventured down the hallway to class.

From where she stood, she saw Santana at the other end of the hallway, ponytail swaying from side to side as she strutted with purpose. The closer she got, the wider Rachel's eyes became when she realized just what was in Santana's hand. An extra-large cup with what Rachel was sure was an ice cold slushie. A yelp resounded from her throat as she practically leapt towards the lockers, hoping Santana didn't see her. Memories of the biting chill of ice sliding down her skin caused her arms to break out into goosebumps.

She came sauntering down the hallway confidently. Rachel's breath caught in her throat when Santana's eyes locked on hers, cruel amusement making her eyes sparkle. Her lips stretched into a smirk as she continued down the hallway.

Rachel stood there, stunned as Santana passed her. She slowly pushed off the lockers to see just where Santana was going. Santana came to a stop in front of a girl who looked like-like…Molly?

She took off into a sprint down the hallway.

"…so as I was saying, it's not like I _want_ to cover your face in Gratifying Grape, but it has to be done," Santana said with a shrug.

"Santana!"

Her ponytail whipped around as Santana turned to face Rachel. "What, Stubbles? You're ruining this for me."

Rachel's eyes shifted from Santana to Molly, looking petrified as she stood against the locker. "What's even happening here?" Molly asked.

She deflated at the question, eyes softening apologetically. "I'm sorry—I don't really know—well, you're about to be slushied. Have you ever been slushied before?"

Molly shook her head adamantly, blonde hair tossing to and fro.

"Then why is she being slushied _now_?" Rachel asked, voice bordering on an annoyed growl. She absolutely hated to see others being bullied.

Santana shrugged nonchalantly. "It's what Quinn wanted."

It felt like her world tipped on its axis and knocked her flat on her ass all at once. "Q-Quinn?" she stammered uncomprehendingly. "Quinn asked you to do this?"

Another shrug. Santana looked down at the iced slush in the cup, swirling it around before taking a leisurely sip. "Look, I ain't got all day, alright? Step aside and lets me douse this chick in a cold shower."

"_No_," Rachel replied forcefully. "You will not slushie her for no reason. Do you simply go around all day and mindlessly do Quinn's bidding?"

_That_ seemed to garner a reaction from Santana as her hip cocked out defiantly, eyes squinting as she glowered at Rachel. "How about you shut your big mouth and move along, Berry."

"Can I just go please?" Molly asked. Both of them turned to face her at the same time and she seemed to shrink back into the lockers. "All I wanted to do was meet my boyfriend after his class."

Santana's eyebrows shot up along her forehead. "Boyfriend? Huh."

"Throw it at me," Rachel suggested, eyes rapidly darting between the two of them. "She doesn't deserve this."

"It's just a cup of colored ice, Berry, not a bullet," Santana replied amusedly.

"You don't know how awful it is, Santana." She took one look at Molly, then her lips pressed firmly together resolutely. "Okay, slushie me instead. Molly, you go to class."

Molly took one look between the two of them, then darted down the hallway quickly without looking back. Rachel sighed. That was one almost friend she probably lost for good. She looked back at the cup in Santana's hand. "Throw it at me."

Santana stared warily at her. "This isn't really what I'm supposed to do, Berry."

A smile wavered on Rachel's face at what she assumed was concern creeping into Santana's voice. Her shoulders slumped tiredly. "It's fine. I'm used to it. Just—could you make it quick?"

Santana nodded. Rachel clenched her eyes shut. The next thing she felt was an ice cold sting against her face. It felt like a chilling slap and her jaw dropped in equal parts shock and embarrassment. Slush seeped into her mouth and she spat it out, only to have it dribble down her chin. "Thanks," she whispered breathlessly, feeling like someone had knocked the wind out of her.

She brought her hands up to her face to wipe thick syrup from her eyes so she could see, then quickly stormed off, walking towards the bathroom. She opened the door and made a beeline towards the paper towel dispenser, pulling out as many as she could and mashing them against her face to mop up excess liquid. She felt slush seep into her shirt and just knew her bra was staining.

A sudden surge of anger flared through her. She was surprised to find out that this anger was directed solely at Quinn, because of the simple fact that Quinn was going around bullying people because she couldn't simply express herself like a normal person.

Rachel huffed out an annoyed breath as goosebumps broke out along her skin.

She slowly ran the paper towel down her face. When she pulled it away, she was staring angrily at herself in the mirror. There was no way to tell what the hell Quinn was doing, but this was crossing the line. She was bringing other people into their mess when they couldn't even figure out what was going on with the two of them.

Suddenly the door burst open forcefully and Rachel leapt back in shock. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance when she saw Quinn walking towards her, wearing the same irritated expression. "What were you thinking?" she growled.

"Not right now, Quinn." Rachel went back to running paper towels through her hair. "I do not wish to talk to you right now considering you ordered Santana to throw a slushie at _my_ _friend_."

"Why the hell are you covered in slushie?" Quinn asked, voice strained and annoyed as she ignored Rachel's statement. "It wasn't for you."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Of course not. It was for Molly."

"It was."

"Why?"

Quinn ignored her. She reached over and snatched the paper towels from Rachel's grip. Rachel turned towards her, a rapidly forming angry rant on the tip of her tongue. Then Quinn reached forward to grab a lock of her hair, stunning Rachel into silence as she meticulously wiped it clean. Her chest heaved once, with the giant breath she took to properly berate Quinn, then deflated in surprise. She stared at the way Quinn's eyes softened with a hint of regret, eyebrows bunching together as she continued to wipe her hair clean.

Long fingers gently combed through her hair and Rachel nearly fell into a trance at the soft way her hair was being sifted to the side. Quinn puffed out a breath, meeting Rachel's eyes once, then looking away. She balled up the paper towel in her hand and walked away towards the trash can. Rachel took a deep breath, feeling the oppressive silence weigh down on them as she walked towards the paper towel dispenser. She turned back around, dabbing awkwardly at her chest as Quinn stared at her from across the room.

"That was uncalled for," she grumbled.

"Like I _said_, it wasn't for you."

"Right, it was for Molly," Rachel snapped, throwing her hands up. "It was for her because you felt threatened, because you can't seem to admit the fact that you like me."

"I don't—" Quinn stopped short. She sighed loudly, placing her hands firmly on her hips and glaring at Rachel.

Rachel turned away, looking at the damage done to her sweater in the mirror. She watched Quinn slowly approach from her peripheral. As soon as she was in touching distance, Rachel's body relaxed and she hated that even though she was mad at Quinn, her body was capable of reacting this way.

Quinn stared at her for a moment, hands twitching at her sides before she balled them into fists. "I'm really sorry," she mumbled, averting her eyes.

She nodded, accepting that small concession. She felt her anger slowly slipping away as she watched Quinn through the mirror, feeling like she was seeing her for the first time. Quinn was just a girl like her, looking scared and confused just like Rachel had felt for weeks after she finally admitted to Finn and herself that she was gay. Sometimes she _still_ felt confused even now.

Her hands dropped to the sink in quiet exasperation and she gripped it tightly, looking down at the chunks of purple slush converging towards the drain. "Molly has a boyfriend," she whispered after a few moments.

Quinn's head snapped up immediately until she was looking at Rachel's profile. "I thought you said you didn't like her."

"I don't. But you're—" she paused, not wanting to use the word _threatened_ again because that would imply that Quinn actually had feelings for her and for some reason they couldn't talk about that. "Just know that I don't like her. And that she has a boyfriend, so…"

"So?" Quinn hedged, taking a step closer.

Rachel looked up at her. "So, you can stop attacking someone who doesn't deserve it." She held Quinn's gaze unwaveringly, letting her know that this wasn't something she was going to back down on.

They stood there staring at each other for a moment. Rachel watched the way Quinn's eyes widened just a fraction before they dropped to her lips. It was completely unmistakable and she fought back a small smile as she allowed Quinn to silently admire her.

Her breath hitched as Quinn took a step closer. Their noses brushed softly and Rachel's eyes slipped shut on instinct.

"Can I kiss you?" Quinn surprisingly whispered against her lips. She nervously looked over her shoulder, then back at Rachel imploringly. "Like, later or something? Will you come over?"

Her eyes fluttered widely open in shock at how genuine the question seemed, as if Quinn wasn't really sure if they were back on good terms or not. Lately it was beginning to seem like they were actually _together_ as in a relationship. This would mark their first fight, and later, if Rachel nodded her consent, making out at Quinn's house would be their version of making up.

Rachel nodded her consent.

* * *

><p>She found herself wandering into Ms. Pillbury's office, after she had changed her clothes, for some odd reason. All she knew was that she had all of these feelings inside of her that she couldn't really let loose on Quinn lest she scare her off. And she didn't want to pour her heart out to someone who had all the power to break it without much effort.<p>

She smiled nervously, tugging at the sleeve of her sweater as Emma squirted a dollop of hand sanitizer into her palm. "Hello, Rachel. How are you today?"

"I'm actually quite confused," she admitted easily enough. She threw a look over her shoulder to make sure the door was closed before she turned back around to face Emma. When she turned back around, Emma was staring at her and Rachel dropped her gaze in embarrassment. "I-I'm kind of madly in love with someone," she whispered sheepishly.

Emma nodded with an encouraging smile. She reached a hand behind her and grabbed a pamphlet, handing it to Rachel.

It was about having a crush on a boy and she sighed in exasperation, curling it in her hand as she looked at Emma beseechingly, begging her to understand. "Have you ever been so completely confused about how a person feels about you? W-whether or not they actually like you, like, _like_ you in _that_ way or if they're leading you on and taking some sick pleasure out of it?"

Emma's eyes slowly widened in shock as she took in what Rachel was saying. Then her eyes casted just over Rachel's left shoulder as she quietly spoke. "I think everyone sometimes feels that way about a person, Rachel." Emma's brow furrowed. "And it sucks, you know? To feel like that person's leading you on because maybe they're not. Maybe they actually like you, but you don't feel worthy of their love because of your own insecurities and you start to make up in your head that every smile is a lie. Every laugh. Every time he runs his fingers through his curly hair in a nervous tick it's just a sick game he likes to play with women and—"

Rachel's jaw dropped in shock and confusion. She slowly looked over her shoulder to find Mr. Schuester on the other side of the hallway with his back turned to them, looking at the bulletin board of announcements. She turned back around to look at Emma incredulously.

"A-anyway," Emma sputtered, "you need to remember to protect your heart. Maybe this boy likes you, maybe he doesn't, but remember either way not to compromise yourself for him, Rachel. Love yourself first."

She nodded, not really seeing how this information helped her any. Essentially she was back at square one. Or square two, square one was when she had _no_ idea how Quinn felt. Square two was more or less knowing Quinn was physically attracted to her at the very least.

Whether it should or shouldn't have, it made her smile.

* * *

><p>"I see you've cleaned up," Santana greeted as she opened the door to Quinn's house. Her head tilted to the side as she inspected Rachel. "Just when I thought your skirts couldn't get any fucking shorter…"<p>

The comment caught her off guard as she walked into the house once Santana stepped aside. "Where's Quinn?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Somewhere being a bitch," Santana griped. She folded her arms tightly across her chest, walking towards the living room.

Rachel followed behind her, looking around for Quinn as they continued into the house. They crossed the threshold into the living room and Brittany was on the couch, staring at her in equal parts excitement and relief. "Hi, Rachel. Glad you're here. Maybe Quinn can stop being mean now."

"Why is she being mean?" Rachel asked curiously.

"_Santana!_ Could you come up here, please?"

She winced at the loud, authoritative tone bearing down upon them all from at the top of the stairs. Santana tensed, a scowl pulling her features downward as she stomped up the stairs. "Coming, you bitch!"

Rachel watched after her worriedly for a few moments before cautiously sliding onto the couch to sit beside Brittany. "Is everything alright?"

Brittany nodded, looking worn out. "They're both on their periods and haven't been getting along the past couple of days. They'd been fighting nonstop before you got here."

Oddly enough, Rachel was immediately charmed, recalling the story Finn had told her a couple of months ago about how Quinn couldn't stand to be around Santana when their cycles linked up. She turned to Brittany with an apologetic smile. "I can't imagine how you deal with the two of them when they're like this."

Brittany chuckled amusedly. "Sometimes it's funny…when they don't go too far, which they always end up doing." The smile on her face widened with a hint of teasing curling the corners of her lips. "And at least you're here to deal with this now."

It was confusing how Brittany spoke of her as if she was a permanent fixture in all of this chaos. But maybe she was reading too much into it, and Brittany was simply saying that _now_ right this second, Rachel was there to deal with Quinn.

She got to _deal_ with Quinn. It felt like such a personal, and intimate statement. Like she was close enough to Quinn to _deal_ with her in whatever way that meant. She offered Brittany a small, tentative smile.

Brittany eyed her curiously as she rested a long arm along the back of the couch. "You like her, don't you?"

"Very much," Rachel admitted quietly.

Her smile widened impossibly to stretch endearingly across her face and Rachel couldn't help but echo it as Brittany spoke. "Not a lot of people like Quinn for who she is, you know? Everyone wants something from her all of a sudden because she's popular. She doesn't really like it."

Rachel nodded in understanding. Most of the people in glee club were only nice to her when they needed something from her—no one aside from Finn and Kurt actually took the time to get to know her. It was a pretty lonely feeling sometimes.

Loud, thunderous footsteps could be heard trekking downstairs and she and Brittany both turned towards the living room threshold.

"Anorexic bitch!" Rachel heard Quinn yell up the stairs. She hopped off the couch quickly to find Quinn walking toward the kitchen.

A moment later, Santana was hitting the last step full force. "Thunder thighs!" she lewdly yelled towards the kitchen before she rudely shouldered past Rachel and into the living room. Rachel turned to watch Santana slump into the couch beside Brittany where she had been sitting. She watched the way Brittany leaned forward and placed a placating kiss against her cheek with a fond smile.

Pulling her gaze away from Santana wiping her eyes and Brittany gently shushing her, Rachel walked towards the kitchen. She found Quinn standing there, back against the counter and staring angrily at the floor. Rachel's eyes raked down her body with interest. Quinn had on a strapless pale blue dress, with yellow stitching. Her hair was down around her shoulders, looking like sunshine as she kicked out a wedged heel aimlessly. Rachel took a step closer and finally hazel eyes looked up slowly to meet her own. They were glistening slightly as Rachel neared her. "Are you okay?" she asked timidly.

Quinn just stared at her for a moment, then looked to the ceiling as she took a deep breath, seemingly willing her tears away. She looked back at Rachel, lips downturned. "Do you think I have thunder thighs?"

Rachel tried not to laugh at how…how _cute_ Quinn looked—on the verge of tears because of some throw away comment Santana made. "No," she said softly, carefully approaching her. "I don't think you have thunder thighs."

"But you haven't even looked," Quinn pointed out.

"I've seen you in your Cheerios uniform quite a few times, Quinn. I can assure you that you look like a healthy girl. Thighs and all."

Quinn stared at her suspiciously, the tears in her eyes slowly drying. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Rachel nodded encouragingly as she approached slowly with open arms. "I'm going to hug you now, okay?"

After a moment Quinn nodded and Rachel leaned forward to gently wrap her arms around Quinn's waist. She instantly melted into the warmth she found there, even as Quinn tensed for a moment. It may have been a little selfish to bask in this moment that was supposed to be for Quinn, but Rachel couldn't help but lightly grasp at the back of Quinn's dress and hold on for dear life.

Long seconds ticked by until Rachel felt the light pressure of two arms wrapping around her shoulders. She sighed, turning to bury her face into Quinn's neck. She inhaled deeply, and the smell of flowers wafted through her nose and saturated deeply in her brain. Quinn smelled so damn good; it was addictive. A hand braced on Quinn's lower back as another one travelled higher up her back so Rachel could hold her more securely. The protrusion of Quinn's bra clasp pressing enticingly into the palm of her hand spiked her heart rate just a fraction. She exhaled a slow breath into the hollow of Quinn's neck, trying to keep her hormones in check. This moment was about comforting Quinn about her body, not trying to get to second base. It was so surprising, the effect Quinn had on her body. Never before had she felt so_...sexual_ with another person, but everything about Quinn made Rachel want to be as physically intimate as the two of them were ready for.

The next thing she felt was an arm sliding slowly along her shoulder until a hand curled around the back of her neck. The other arm travelled the span of her shoulders to grasp at her other one, effectively holding her in place.

Her heart stopped.

Quinn was holding her.

_Quinn_ was _holding_ her.

Then Quinn lowered her head until her nose was buried into dark brown hair and Rachel nearly fainted from swooning so hard.

"A-are you alright?" she asked shakily, never once removing her face from Quinn's neck.

"I'm fine," Quinn breathed after a moment.

They fit together so perfectly. Without any effort, they just clicked into place like two pieces of the same puzzle. Every curve Quinn had fit her own with ease. It was alluring and heady, having Quinn pressed against her everywhere. She rubbed her lips together, eyes slipping shut in pleasure as Quinn deliberately played with the wisps of hair at the back of her neck. Goosebumps fanned out along her body at the gentle press of finger tips into her skin. Her grip on Quinn's dress flexed and tightened and her palm itched white hot as Quinn's bra clasp rubbed against it teasingly.

Her lips began to tingle, dying to taste Quinn here because this was new territory for her, for _them_, because there was a them whether Quinn wanted to talk about it or not. Something between them was forming right before their eyes and she knew Quinn had to feel it too. Her lips puckered on their own accord, and when Quinn's fingers tightened in her hair, she pressed fleetingly against her throat. She could feel the tight swallow Quinn forced down her throat before pulling back. Her tongue dragged along her lips to wet them as Quinn shifted around her, squirming where she stood but remaining quiet. It drove Rachel absolutely _wild_. She dove back in cautiously, pressing her lips deeply against Quinn's neck. A soft moan was breathed into her hair as she began to pepper light kisses against the smooth column of Quinn's throat. It was so smooth and unblemished, calling to Rachel. Before she could think twice, her tongue was peeking out through her lips and running experimentally from the base of Quinn's throat to just below her chin. Quinn moaned louder, canting her head to the side to allow Rachel room to press a wet, opened mouth kiss to the side of her neck.

Quinn gripped her hair tightly, forcing Rachel back up and crashing their lips together. Rachel whimpered as Quinn harshly bit into her lower lip, the hand around her shoulder constricting like a snake and drawing her in closer until every curve was pressed impossibly closer. Rachel's hands kept a firm grip on Quinn's dress, drawing circular patterns on her lower back that caused Quinn to arch with a gasp that sounded completely surprised. Quinn pulled back, peppering kisses across her cheek and down her jaw before breathing, "Let's go to my room," into Rachel's ear.

It came as a surprise when Quinn grabbed her hand, and Rachel stared dumbly at their point of contact as she was dragged up the stairs.


	13. Chapter 13

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

* * *

><p>There was a brilliant hickey on the side of her neck that stood out proudly, teetering between red and purple that pulsed and tingled every few seconds to remind Rachel of its presence. As if she could ever forget. As if she could ever forget the way Quinn lightly bit her neck before sucking forcefully, lapping at the bruise on her neck with the flat of her tongue until it had shown proudly. Rachel hadn't even been aware it was there until had Quinn pulled back, staring at her neck with a mischievous, satisfied smile.<p>

That smile would forever burn itself into her memory, because it wasn't a cruel self-satisfied smile that she had seen Quinn wear when she had done or said something particularly mean. Hell, Rachel had even had _that_ smile directed at her a few times before. But the smile Quinn wore two days ago when they had been on her bed had been…impish, playful in a way that settled warmly in Rachel's chest.

She wasn't allowed to give Quinn a hickey because Quinn was a Cheerio and the implications of a hickey were something Sue Sylvester wouldn't tolerate her girls having. Quinn had told her how though it was no secret to anyone that Santana and Brittany fooled around with nearly everyone, as long as there was no physical evidence to show for it by the time they dressed in their uniforms, Sue always turned a blind eye and a deaf ear.

…Unless she purposefully brought up their promiscuous ways to embarrass them in front of the group from time to time.

It was kind of amazing that, two days later, the hickey was still very much there, very much _pulsing_, alive and kicking to remind Rachel just who put in there in case she ever forgot. It yet again called attention to Quinn's ability as a kisser and wonder at just where she managed to learn to give a seemingly permanent hickey from.

Rachel canted her head to the side as she continued to stare at it in the mirror. She touched the bruise on her neck once more, shivering at the jolt that slowly rolled down her spine before slinking away from her dresser. Excitement caused butterflies to let loose in her stomach as she pulled an overnight bag from under her bed.

Today was Saturday, which meant this was the day she was going to have a sleepover with Quinn and her friends. She was going to spend an entire night with the three most popular girls in school and for once, she wasn't nervous. The only thing she felt was an abundance of excitement as she threw a set of clothes into the bag along with her brush. She gathered her hair and tossed it absentmindedly along her right shoulder as she turned around and scanned her room to see if she had forgotten anything. She quickly ran to her dresser, grabbing a new toothbrush and her deodorant to throw in her bag.

A knock on the door caught her attention and she yelled, "Come in!" over her shoulder as she continued to pack.

Leroy opened the door, peeking his head inside to make sure she was decent before walking in completely. "Ready to go, sweetheart?"

"Almost," she replied breathlessly. She zipped up her bag then dragged it along her shoulder before turning around to face him with a large smile. "I'm ready."

Immediately Leroy's brow furrowed and zeroed in on the side of her neck as he took a step closer. Rachel very nearly face palmed at her own blunder. She had been careful the last couple of days to wear a turtleneck to school and to fluff out her hair along her shoulders to hide the hickey. But all her hair was resting on one shoulder now and the left side of her neck lay wholly exposed.

Hesitantly, Leroy reached out to touch her neck. Rachel blinked hard as she watched his facial reactions. She wasn't at all embarrassed, but she wasn't exactly going shout from the rooftops that she had a hickey either.

"My baby isn't a baby anymore," Leroy finally uttered after a moment.

Rachel sighed with a small, almost apologetic smile. "I'm still your daughter, though, daddy. I just…I'm growing up, is all."

Leroy suddenly wrapped his arms around her tightly. She rested her head against his chest as she soaked in his warmth. She would never be too old for a hug from her fathers. "I want you to be careful," he said sternly.

Rachel just snuggled closer. "Yes, daddy."

"I don't care that Quinn's a girl and you can't get pregnant. You still need to be careful about what you're doing."

"I will, daddy," she promised. "Neither of us are ready for anything more than kissing yet, okay? We're careful."

Leroy just hugged her tighter for a long moment. "First loves can seem like life or death. Just be careful, okay?"

She could do little more than nod a second time in an attempt to reassure him and herself that she wasn't going to allow Quinn to break her heart no matter how much she loved her.

She just hoped she was right.

* * *

><p>She fumbled with the car door handle to open it, staring at Santana's house. It reminded her of Quinn's, huge on the outside and probably even bigger on the inside. She passed by the passenger side door just as Hiram rolled the window down.<p>

"Remember what your father and I told you," he said, bracing an arm on the window to lean outward.

"I'll remember, dad." She flashed a sure smile. "I'll be careful; I promise."

She gave a small wave and continued up the driveway to the door. With a careful knock, she rocked back on her heels and waited.

There was some giggling on the other side of the door, then a loud thump. A moment later the door was swung open. Santana stood proudly on the other side of it, face smug and satisfied. Then Brittany's head popped up from behind the door, face looking positively flushed in a way that made Rachel embarrassed.

Santana stretched, wearing a pair of obscenely short shorts that made Rachel wonder if she and Quinn swapped clothing or shopped together. "Hey, Berry."

Brittany grinned. "Hi, Rachel."

"Good afternoon, Brittany, Santana. I hope I'm not too early."

"You are," Santana deadpanned. "Can't say it's surprising though."

Rachel frowned, then walked inside when an actual invite didn't seem forthcoming. The door closed behind her and she turned to Brittany to unsurprisingly see the majority of her long, never ending legs capped off with a pair of barely there scrap of shorts. She had on a light blue three quarter length shirt that hugged her body tightly; blonde hair looked to be thrown up in a loose bun in haste. The blush along her cheeks was slowly fading but the twinkle of excitement in her eyes lingered as they cut to Santana briefly.

She watched, with a hint of amusement, the way Santana's hair looked thick and tousled before she haphazardly combed her fingers through it. They had obviously been caught, but their sheer nonchalance made Rachel smile. "Welcome to casa de Lopez, Berry."

She turned to look further into the house, walking carefully through the hallway that led to the living room. "Where are your parents?"

"Further west, where they'll be all weekend," she heard Santana call from somewhere over her shoulder. "I have an aunt who's sick."

Rachel turned back around to face her with wide, mournful eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Santana shrugged. "Not like I know her."

She must have gone googly eyed at the unexpected callousness of Santana's comment because Brittany giggled at her before walking past. "Santana's room is this way. Do you want something to drink or anything?"

Rachel shook her head absentmindedly, gaze locked on how messy the house was. There was a lamp on the couch with the shade fallen off of it, and red cups all over the floor. "What…happened?"

Santana snickered from behind her. "Ever heard of a party, Berry?"

"Yes, but, do they all have to end so messily?" She was half expecting to find a body lying prone on the floor as her eyes scanned the living room. A thought struck her and she spun around quickly to find Brittany and Santana walking up the stairs. "Was Quinn here last night?" she asked as she followed behind them.

"Yep, boring up the whole place," Santana complained as they walked down the hallway to what Rachel assumed would be her room. "Chick wouldn't even dance with Mike."

A goofy smile broke out over her face at the comment as they strolled into Santana's room. Quinn really did seem like the type to be a party pooper. She couldn't help but feel giddy inside at the fact that Quinn hadn't seemed interested in anyone at the party. She wished Quinn would have called her…then she remembered that Quinn didn't even have her number.

What the hell was even going on with them?

"Have a seat, Berry."

She looked down to find both Brittany and Santana sitting down on the floor staring at her expectantly. Her eyes briefly scanned over Santana's room as she sat down. It was decidedly emo, completely different from Quinn's. A Bob Marley poster hung in the corner where Quinn's bookcase would have been had Rachel been in her room instead, yet Rachel nodded in appreciation before she looked back over at Santana. "Where's Quinn?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "Considering you came here early as hell, and interrupted me getting my mack on, by the way, I'd say she won't be here for like, two hours."

Her shoulders slumped in disappointment. She sighed, composed herself and looked around at the other two occupants in the room with a bright smile. "Very well. What shall we do until then? Scrabble, perhaps?"

Brittany grinned in amusement as Santana cackled. "I think we should talk about girls," Brittany suggested as her eyes slid over to Santana. She waggled her eyebrows and Santana smirked.

"Agreed, B."

Her interest was officially piqued as she watched Brittany and Santana exchange glances.

"So, Berry," Santana began in a sickeningly sweet voice as she scooted closer. The hairs on the back of Rachel's neck stood anxiously on end as Santana neared her. "What's it like to kiss Quinn?"

She blushed instantly, cheeks burning as she averted her eyes to her fingers playing with the hem of her skirt. "I can't really answer that," she mumbled.

"Of course you can," Santana encouraged with a devilish grin. "She good?"

Rachel nodded a little, lifting her head up as Santana flashed Brittany a grin and a wink.

"What does she do?" Brittany asked eagerly.

"What do you mean?"

Brittany gestured vaguely with her hands. "You know like, when you guys make out and stuff. Give us deets."

They both looked at her with so much enthusiasm, like she was actually a friend and they were having a friendly gossip conversation that Rachel found herself easing tensed shoulders and smiling faintly. "She's wonderful. The only other person I've _really_ kissed was Finn, so I don't really have a lot of people to compare to. But…" she exhaled shakily, "the way Quinn kisses me, it's like she's trying to convey her _feel_—"

"Yada, yada, wax poetic somewhere else, will ya?" Santana groaned, sliding away and back over to where she originally sat.

Brittany frowned deeply at her. "I thought it was sweet."

Santana smiled, puckering her lips and leaning over to press them gently against Brittany's.

Rachel didn't know Santana was capable of doing _anything_ gently.

She stared at the two of them as they pulled back. Brittany turned to look at her, her expression morphing into curiosity. "You want a kiss, too?"

"No, she doesn't," Santana said pointedly, hard eyes sliding from Brittany to Rachel, then Brittany again. "Besides, Q would bitch for days if either one of us kissed her." Her head tilted in thought for a few moments, then she smirked, looking back at Rachel with a shrug. "All the more reason to kiss her though."

"No thank you," Rachel squeaked out at the sight of the lecherous grin on Santana's face.

"I'm totally the bomb kisser," Brittany said as if it was no big deal as she played with the ends of her hair. "The janitor taught me last year."

A disgusted sound choked from Rachel's throat. "That's…_really_ illegal."

"And super-hot."

"Mhm," Santana agreed with a head nod. "Then she brings those sweet lips to me. So, really I win in the end."

She smiled at the fond way Santana and Brittany looked at each other as if they were lost in their own world. "You two are really adorable," she said quietly.

Predictably, Brittany smiled in a way that made Rachel realize she had never seen someone as bubbly and happy as Brittany. And _that_ was saying something because Rachel was pretty happy most of the time when she wasn't going through the appropriate amount of teen angst.

"Thanks," Santana said smugly as Brittany scooted over, wrapped an arm around her waist and rested her head on Santana's.

"I wish I could be like that with someone," Rachel mumbled.

"_Someone_?" Santana said sharply. "I thought you were all over Quinn."

"I am," she assured. "You _know_ that. But…I don't know. I don't know how she feels."

"So fucking ask her. Man up, Berry. This mousey shit you're doing isn't going to get you a girl."

The phrase 'man up' seemed terribly antifeminist and Rachel was pretty sure Quinn would be offended had she been here to hear this. Rachel didn't know how to 'man up'. She had never had to pursue someone, especially someone as closed off and inconsistent as Quinn Fabray. "I feel like I'm making progress. I just—I can't get into her head and she's very careful about keeping her thoughts hidden."

"She's a girl, Berry, not a puzzle."

"Aren't they one in the same?" Rachel remarked dryly.

Santana shrugged. Her attention was diverted the second Brittany kissed her neck and Rachel felt heat flame through her all of a sudden as she remembered the very first time she got to kiss Quinn in that exact spot a few days ago and all of the sounds she had made.

It was erotic.

She had heard Quinn moan before, but listening to Quinn moan without her own lips attached to hers was something other worldly. An experience in and of itself that tightened her stomach and drove her to want to make even more sounds drip from those pouty lips.

"You should totally sing to us while we make out," Brittany breathed before Santana gripped the back of her neck and pulled her closer. Rachel blinked, focusing on them and the way they were really going to town on each other. A blush crawled along her cheeks as she rubbed her lips together and averted her eyes to the harmless Bob Marley poster in the corner. She idly wondered if Santana would want to sing a Bob Marley song in glee club.

A loud moan drew her eyes to Brittany, head tossed back and blonde hair spilling over her shoulders as Santana bit her neck gently. Throat dry, Rachel licked at her lips and stood abruptly. "I suppose…I'll get my own drink," she mumbled, noticing neither of them were paying her any attention.

"You're such a better kiss than the janitor now," Brittany chuckled lowly as Rachel walked out of the room.

"Mmm, and you're better than Matt."

"Duh."

Their exchange lingered in Rachel's mind as she walked down the stairs and hesitated around every corner in search of the kitchen. The fact that Santana, a self-proclaimed lesbian, still made out with boys baffled her. Was she not really a lesbian? Or was making out with guys a popularity thing? And if so, was that what Quinn was doing? It couldn't have been healthy for one's self-worth after a while.

"Or she could just not be gay," Rachel mumbled to herself as she grabbed a cup from the kitchen cabinet. It reminded her of the day Quinn almost kissed and…man; she was really head over heels for this girl. It felt like it could go either way, and she vowed to keep her parents' and Ms. Pillsbury's advice in her mind, but she also vowed to see where this was going.

She heard feet scampering down the stairs and looked up to find Brittany and Santana walking in the kitchen a moment later.

"Sorry about that," Brittany said, face flushed. Again.

"Never apologize for how hot we are, B." Santana grabbed a cup from the cabinet, filling it with water and taking a sip before handing it to Brittany. The fluidity in their movements would never cease to astound Rachel.

"What do you wanna do now?" Brittany asked as she handed the cup to Santana.

"Dunno," Santana mumbled around a sip of water.

Rachel perked up. "Might I suggest—"

"We can talk about boys," Santana offered.

Rachel made a face at the offer that was just put on the table. Of all the things she didn't want to talk about…

After another sip of water, Santana turned towards her with a speculative frown. "How was making out with Finn?"

They both looked towards her and she recoiled in surprise, only now realizing that she was the only person in the room that had actually kissed him. Was this _all_ they talked about—_kissing_? "…It was alright, I suppose."

"I think that means...it wasn't good," Brittany said with a chuckle. She grabbed at the cup in Santana's grip and placed it between her lips, biting on it forcefully, then easing up to make the cup bounce up and down and Rachel smiled. Then she looked towards Santana who had a hand stroking her chin as if she were in deep thought. Her smile widened as she realized these were the people Quinn hung out with. And neither of them, including Quinn, were nearly as scary as Rachel had originally thought.

"But he's popular," Santana began slowly after a moment. "Has he just not made out with a lot of girls?"

"Maybe not," Brittany offered, voice muffled by the cup.

"Yeah, but Quinn is a good kisser, so why isn't he?"

"How do you know Quinn is a good kisser?" Rachel blurted out before even thinking better of it.

"Oh, I've totally made out with Quinn before," Brittany replied offhandedly.

Her features slackened at the statement as her brain short circuited. The only thing that came out of her mouth was, "W-wait, _what_?" as she blinked rapidly, eyes widening in impossible shock.


	14. Chapter 14

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

* * *

><p>Santana smirked as she stared at the completely dumbfounded expression on Rachel's face. "Britts, I think you broke her."<p>

"I'm sorry," Brittany mumbled with a concerned frown. "Should we take her to the doctor?"

"Nah, just give her a minute."

It felt like someone had stuffed cotton balls in her ears; she heard what Brittany and Santana were saying but just barely. Their voices were muffled, barely there as Rachel's brain tried its best to effectively process what she had just heard. "E-explain this," she stammered as she snatched the cup from Brittany's hand lest she put it back in her mouth. She sat it down on the counter with a little more force than necessary, ignoring Santana's arched eyebrow in warning as she stared up at Brittany. "How could you—under what circumstances—tell me."

"Calm yourself, Berry," Santana warned.

"I have a right to know, Santana," Rachel told her, turning wide, slightly crazed eyes on her. She looked back at Brittany. "Were the two of you drunk?"

Brittany shook her head. "We weren't drinking."

Rachel motioned for her to continue.

Brittany looked towards Santana worriedly, a little nervous from the way Rachel was staring at her.

Santana nodded once. "Go 'head, B. She won't do anything."

Rachel scowled up at Santana before looking to Brittany again.

"Umm, well, it was during the summer," Brittany began, staring down at her fidgeting fingers. "During cheering camp."

Rachel rolled her eyes. Could this possibly be more cliché?

"Anyway, me, Santana, and Quinn got to share a room. And we would talk about the other girls, make-up, boys—by the way the hockey team is still so gross, right?" Brittany said as she turned to look at Santana.

Santana's eyes squinted with a wicked grin. "Those back water mullet-haired hillbillies wouldn't know a woman's breasts if I put my own in their hands."

"Your boobs are pretty nice," Brittany whispered.

"Uh, guys," Rachel interjected before things got out of hand. "You were telling me the story behind how Brittany kissed Quinn."

Santana smirked at the bitterness that dripped from Rachel's tone of voice. "Jealous, Berry?"

Rachel folded her arms tightly across her chest, refusing to rise to such obvious bait. "Brittany, please continue."

"Oh, right." Brittany straightened, prying her eyes away from Santana's chest. "So, anyway, we talked about boys and how hot sex is with them. Then Santana complained that she doesn't like having sex with boys—"

Santana shifted uncomfortably.

"Because you're gay, correct?"

"Shout it from a roof top, why don't you?" Santana hissed back.

Rachel recoiled, not really understanding how someone who was just sucking on Brittany's neck like a vampire was now bitching her out because Rachel suggested she was gay. She looked back to Brittany warily.

Brittany just grabbed Santana's hand, rubbing her thumb along the back of it as she continued. "Anyway, after Santana said that, Quinn started looking around like she wanted to say something, but she never did. So, I just smiled at her and told her she could tell us anything. So, then she was like, she doesn't really enjoy kissing Finn and she doesn't understand why."

Santana snickered. "She said she enjoyed it, but she wasn't sure if she liked it as much as she was supposed to." She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, that chick is so inexperienced sometimes, it hurts. So, I told her maybe she was gay."

"And then Quinn got really mad at Santana," Brittany said emphatically, eyes widening as she recalled the story. "Her face got all red, then they started screaming at each other and I had to get between them to break it up. We all sat down again and I wrapped my arm around Quinn because she looked really sad and I never like to see my friends sad."

Rachel's brow furrowed as she allowed everything to sink in. It seemed that Quinn's curiosity wasn't as new as she had originally thought. This story was giving a whole new meaning to Quinn's 'I'm not interested in having sex with boys' statement.

"I asked her what the hell she was talking about when she said she didn't enjoy kissing Finn as much as she thought she should," Santana continued. "But she's innocent as shit, so it was like asking a baby to solve a math problem: impossible and frustrating as shit. But eventually she said that she didn't seem to enjoy kissing Finn the way Brittany described how much she enjoyed kissing the janitor, and Puck, and Mike—"

"And Kelly," Brittany chimed in with a grin. "Totally made out with her." She fist pumped for good measure.

Rachel smiled incredulously and Santana chuckled.

"Santana was asking her all of these questions but I kinda stopped paying attention because Quinn's head was on my shoulder and her hair smelled really good, you know?"

"Yes," Rachel whispered, a little disappointed that Brittany knew, too. "She smells really good."

Brittany frowned in concern. "I'm really sorry I kissed her, Rachel."

"No, no, it's okay," Rachel assured feebly, crossing her arms over her middle. "Continue, please."

Santana piped up. "I told her maybe she didn't like kissing Finn because she was gay. Then of course the little homophobe blew up again at being called gay."

"She's not a homophobe," Rachel protested strongly. "She still talks to me and she knows I'm gay. And she still talks to you and Brittany."

Santana surprisingly didn't retaliate, not having a leg to stand on.

"Quinn told us she wasn't gay. Then Santana asked her how could she possibly know if she hadn't kissed a girl."

"Quinn didn't have an answer, so I walked across the room to her and Britts," Santana said. "I told her I'd kiss her and she could decide for herself." Santana's phone started ringing and she searched around for it, walking away from Rachel and Brittany to find it. "Be right back."

Rachel was slowly losing her mind as the story went back and forth between the two of them. She just really needed to know how it ended. She licked her lips nervously as Santana walked off with the rest of the story.

"That's not how it went," Brittany said with a wave of her hand. "Even as Santana said she'd kiss her, she still made fun of Quinn. As soon as they got face to face, Quinn pushed her away and told her no. Santana got mad, but I told her to leave Quinn alone. I told Quinn I'd kiss her if she really wanted to know if she was gay or not. She said no right away."

Rachel smiled a little. Even in this retelling of something that had happened months ago, Quinn was still as cautious as ever.

"We all went to sleep after that. Well, Santana and I had sex. I'm assuming Quinn went to sleep because if she was still up, that would explain why she asked me to kiss her the next day. Anyway, she waited til Santana was out of the room, then asked me. And I kissed her." Brittany grinned from ear to ear. "It was hot. Then we kissed more after that, but Quinn cut it off after like, two days or so."

Rachel took a step back from the counter as she allowed all of that information to soak in. She wasn't the first girl Quinn had kissed like she wanted to be, and for that, she was a little disappointed. But on the same token, Quinn had already known what it was like to kiss a girl when she had kissed Rachel, so it couldn't have been simple curiosity that drove her to do it.

"Did Quinn ever say she was gay?" Rachel asked tentatively.

Brittany shook her head. "She went back to Finn as if nothing had happened. Until you stepped in and kinda stole him from her and all that."

"…uh huh. Yeah, okay," Santana murmured into the phone as she walked back in the kitchen. Her eyes flicked to Rachel's abruptly. "Yeah, she's here. Yeah. See you in a little. Bye." She hung up the phone and looked to Rachel. "Quinn said she'll be here in ten minutes."

Rachel's eyes widened. "She said that to me specifically?" she squeaked out.

Santana rolled her eyes. "No, she was just speaking in general."

"Oh…"

"She asked about you, though."

Her heart rate kicked up a notch. "Really?"

Santana nodded. "Did you finish telling her the story?" she asked Brittany.

"Yep," Brittany chirped.

Rachel leaned forward over the counter. "So, did you teach her what she knows?" she asked curiously. "Because she's an amazing kisser."

Brittany giggled, flushing suddenly, and Rachel felt a stab of jealousy shoot through her. "I taught her some stuff, yeah. But mostly Quinn is just a really good kisser."

"And the two of you don't have feelings for each other?" she followed up with skeptically.

Brittany shrugged. "Quinn's pretty, but she's like, one of my best friends. I can't even imagine liking her."

Santana nodded with a smug smile. "Quinn wishes she could get a chick like my Britts."

The comment felt like a dig at her, but Rachel was too preoccupied trying to wrap her mind around the fact that Quinn had kissed another girl. She just _could_ _not_ figure out how to feel. Whether to feel jealous that Brittany got the chance to kiss the girl she was in love with, or to feel relieved that apparently what she and Quinn were doing was less experimenting and more Quinn…Rachel wasn't exactly sure _what_ Quinn was doing, but it was definitely more than simple experimenting and curiosity.

Rapid knocks on the door caught everyone's attention and Rachel followed Santana with her eyes as she walked towards the door. Rachel nervously attempted to coif her hair was she heard two sets of footsteps approaching.

From around the corner came Santana and Quinn walking into the kitchen. One look at Quinn sent Rachel's heart pumping loudly against her chest. She had on a white dress and a red cardigan, hair curled perfectly as normal with a small smile on her face as she looked at everyone.

"Hi, Quinn!" Brittany greeted loudly as she flung herself into Quinn's arms the way Rachel wanted to.

Quinn chuckled quietly, wrapping her unoccupied arm around her. "Hey, B."

Rachel swallowed a lump of emotion down her throat. Watching Quinn and Brittany interact was less bearable now that they had…_history_. Her breath hitched immediately when Quinn's eyes landed on her.

"Hi," Quinn greeted tentatively as she slowly walked closer to stand in front of Rachel. "I didn't think you'd come."

She stared up at Quinn, trying to reconcile the fact that the girl she was staring at was the same girl who kissed Brittany at cheer camp this past summer. "Hi, Quinn," she murmured, feeling like a spaz. "A-and yes, well, Santana and Brittany invited me over, so…"

Quinn stiffened at the comment. "I didn't know you'd like to do these things. If I had known, I would have…invited you myself, I guess."

Rachel's mouth opened as she tried to reply, but she didn't really know what to make of that statement. She ended up biting her lip in uncertainty as she continued to stare up at Quinn.

"Ugh, either kiss or don't. Either way, get out of my kitchen," Santana interrupted. Quinn broke eye contact immediately, blushing as she walked away.

"I'm putting this in the spare room," she called over her shoulder as she walked upstairs.

Rachel stared after her, gripping the counter to keep herself rooted in place when all she wanted to do was follow Quinn.

Santana looked over at her with a smirk. "Mousey shit won't get you a girl."

Her lips pressed together resolutely as she released her hold on the counter. She walked past the knowing smirk on Santana's face and up the stairs towards where she heard Quinn shuffling around in the spare room. She walked inside, finding Quinn checking out the bed sheets. The door closed behind her and she leaned back against it as Quinn looked over at her in surprise.

Quinn cleared her throat, looking back down at the bed and it occurred to Rachel right then and there that they really didn't know how to act around one another when their lips weren't attached. "Santana and Brittany like to…do _stuff_ on every surface in the house, so when I visit I have to check the sheets," Quinn said with a small laugh.

An unsure smile appeared lopsidedly on Rachel's face as she gestured to the bed. "I-is it clean?"

Quinn pulled the covers back up along the bed neatly, patting them as she turned back around to sit on the bed. "It's clean."

"That's good," Rachel mumbled as she stayed plastered to the door. She felt like she didn't even know Quinn anymore. Not that she had known Quinn at all and perhaps that was her own fault for getting in so deep without actually _talking_, but staring at Quinn and knowing she had kissed Brittany, knowing that she was _experienced_ and hadn't told her was baffling.

"What are you thinking about?"

The guarded question caught Rachel's attention and her gaze snapped up to find Quinn staring at her as she sat on the bed. Rachel shook her head. "Nothing important."

Quinn patted the space beside her. "Then come over here."

Rachel hesitantly walked forward to sit on the bed beside Quinn. She clasped her hands together and placed them in her lap as she looked nearly everywhere but at Quinn. Things felt weird now and she wasn't sure how to proceed from here.

The next thing she felt were soft fingers touching the hickey on her neck. She shivered involuntarily as Quinn admired her handiwork.

Quinn turned to face Rachel more fully as she stared at the hickey on her neck. She leaned in closer, her thumb rubbing over soft, tan skin. "I did that," Quinn said quietly, almost in disbelief. She inhaled a deep breath, eyes narrowing.

"You did," Rachel agreed with a small smile. She grabbed Quinn's hand, turning towards her. Her eyes slid over to Quinn and one look had Rachel blushing, ducking her head until her hair fell over her face.

Quinn giggled quietly. "Why do you always do that?"

Rachel couldn't help but lean closer into that warm, intimate tone of voice, cheeks a brilliant red. "Do what?"

A second later soft fingertips were brushing against her cheek and Rachel sighed, sagging forward to be closer. "Why do you blush like that?" Quinn wondered curiously.

Rachel slowly reached forward to cover the hand cupping her cheek with her own. There was only one answer thrusting itself into the forefront of her mind and her heart thudded loudly against her chest at the thought. Santana had told her there was only one way to get a girl and this seemed like the moment to just go for it. She took a deep breath, holding Quinn's gaze as steady and as confidently as she could as she whispered, "Because I like you. A-a lot, actually."

She could feel her heart swell in fearful excitement, wanting to proclaim the amount of love in it that seemed to expand with every passing day, but she bit her tongue, gaze firmly locked on widening hazel eyes.

Quinn didn't say anything. In fact, she dropped eye contact, staring hard at the blush on Rachel's cheeks that seemed to flare up even more now that her feelings were out there. Rachel stood still, completely terrified. Her nails dug into the white comforter they were sitting on until she was fisting it in her grip in nervousness. After a moment a thumb softly brushed her cheek, and it was such a welcomed feeling that her eyes slipped shut on their own accord. Then a soft pair of lips applied the barest hint of pressure against her own.

Just when she was beginning to reciprocate the affection, Quinn pulled back, lightly bumping their foreheads together before resting there. Rachel's eyes fluttered open to be greeted with the sight of dark pink lips curved into not-quite-a-smile, but definitely not a frown either. She reached out to touch them. Her index finger traced the curve of Quinn's top lip all the way to the bottom, lingering. Soft lips puckered to place a barely there kiss to her finger and she smiled at the small display of affection.

Her hand dropped to tightly grasp Quinn's own as she just rested there, feeling warm all over. It seemed like each time they were alone together, they would get a little closer, touch each other with a little more warmth behind it and it drove Rachel crazy.

She felt more than heard Quinn take a deep breath because they were just that close when Quinn stiltedly whispered, "I don't…want you to kiss anyone else."

Rachel licked her lips as she mulled over Quinn's statement, surprised by Quinn's audacity to make such a statement when the two of them were hardly together. They were, at best, rapidly forming friends whose infrequency of making out was starting to become more and more frequent.

Her hand curved more around Quinn's until she was giving it a light squeeze, swallowing tightly. "Okay." She chewed on her lower lip nervously, releasing it to whisper, "But you can't—either, okay?" She was itching to bring up the whole Brittany situation, but didn't see a way it could be done tactfully. Right now the two of them really seemed to be getting along despite the fact that they were discussing something Rachel was sure Quinn really didn't want to talk about. She didn't want to ruin it and risk Quinn walking away.

The feeling of Quinn's forehead bunching concerned her as they both pulled back, staring directly at each other for the first time in minutes. It took everything Rachel had in her to remain silent, to not take back what she said in an attempt to _not_ try to box Quinn in because it was obvious that was what Quinn had been avoiding this whole time. But she was the one to suddenly bring up the topic of having some form of exclusivity in whatever it was they were doing, and Rachel hazarded a guess that stretching that level of, dare she think it, _commitment_ to the both of them was only reasonable.

Quinn ran a hand slowly through her hair for a moment as she stared down at her blankets. "I—yeah, okay…I guess. Umm…" She met Rachel's gaze suddenly with a certain something in her eyes that made Rachel's breath catch in her throat. "I guess I can do that."

It wasn't the most romantic thing Rachel had ever heard, but it may as well have been if the shy smile that blossomed on her face was any indication. She rose on her knees, resting on the heels of her feet and leaning forward in an attempt to be closer. "Can you tell me how you feel about me, maybe?" she asked tentatively.

To her utter surprise, Quinn didn't lean away. Her head just kind of tilted to the side as she stared at Rachel. "I'm not gay," she said very clearly and deliberately after a moment.

Though her declaration didn't seem to be done and Rachel waited patiently, choosing not to focus on that statement as fear began to steadily climb up her spine.

Quinn's gaze dropped to stare down at her hands. They were flexed with tension, long fingers stretching out as far as they could. Rachel stared at the lock of blonde hair that fell alluringly over Quinn's face. "But I…I feel things for you," Quinn whispered. She swallowed thickly, scooting further along the bed and tucking a leg underneath her. "Things that I'm supposed to feel for a boy."

It honestly felt like someone had taken a giant weight off of her shoulders. She felt like she was floating amongst the clouds, amongst the _stars_ from the last of Quinn's sentence. Quinn was probably confused, hell they both were, but the fact that there was _something_, these _feelings_ that Quinn felt for _her_ made every moment of twisted chaos worth it.

She reached out slowly, trying not to startle Quinn who looked visibly rattled as Rachel gently smoothed her hair away from her face. "It's okay," she said quietly, surely. She rubbed her hair gently before cupping the side of her face, encouraging Quinn to look at her. Wide hazel eyes met her own and Rachel offered a soft smile of encouragement. "It's confusing, I'm sure. But, it's okay." Her thumb stroked Quinn's cheek as she whispered, "Just know that I-I won't force you into anything and we can take this as slow as you want."

Quinn's face pinched in contemplation for a long moment. She sighed heavily, eyes darting down to the blanket. "They told you, didn't they?"

Rachel bit her lip nervously. "Who told me what?" she asked tremulously.

Sharp hazel eyes focused on her. "Don't treat me like I'm stupid, Rachel."

"Sorry," Rachel sighed. Her hands dropped from Quinn's face as she leaned back, mumbling, "And yes—Brittany told me that the two of you kissed a few months ago."

Neither one of them said anything for a long time. Rachel's eyes darted to Quinn every few seconds whose frown seemed to grow deeper and deeper every time she looked at her. She shifted uneasily, hating the silence. "I'm sorry. I probably should have just told Brittany not to tell me and—"

"I was really confused when I let her kiss me," Quinn admitted, head down as she rubbed self-consciously at the back of her neck. "I'm sure she told you about how I was confused about my feelings for Finn," she bit out scornfully.

Rachel nodded sympathetically. "She did. And that's-that's norm—"

"It's not _normal_," Quinn retaliated. "Normal would be liking him. Normal would be wanting to kiss him. But instead I want…" she shook her head, choosing not to finish that sentence as she looked up to meet Rachel's eyes.

Her gaze, dark and intense all of a sudden, shot right through Rachel unexpectedly. Her chest heaved with a deep breath as she licked her lips. "Just know that…you're wanted, too," Rachel whispered.

"You want me?" Quinn asked skeptically as she scooted further along the bed and closer to Rachel.

Rachel nodded dumbly, suddenly feeling like prey as she scooted back away from Quinn when all she wanted was to be closer. Without thinking, she leaned back, resting on the pillows as her impossibly wide brown eyes stared up at Quinn.

Quinn stopped short, hovering over Rachel and looking down at her curiously. "How do you want me?"

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked nervously. This felt like a test and she feared she was going to fail miserably.

"What do you want from me?" Quinn asked, staring at Rachel unwaveringly. "Sex? Popularity? What?"

Rachel gawked at her in surprise and offense at the question. "Neither. How could you think that—"

"Because everyone wants something," Quinn said surely, lips pursed.

She sat up quickly, her nose brushing along Quinn's because of their close proximity. "I don't," Rachel said timidly. "I don't _need_ to be popular—I've gone without it for nearly two years and I've done just fine for myself, thank you very much. And I'm not even ready for sex."

She felt Quinn sag against her in what may have been relief as their lips brushed the barest hint. "I like you, Quinn," she whispered. "It really is that simple, okay?"

Quinn's only response was to lean forward and kiss her softly. Rachel whimpered on contact, seemingly starved to feel Quinn's lips on hers again. Her eyes slid shut as she tried to block out the thought of Quinn learning _anything_ from Brittany. It didn't matter. It didn't matter because _she_ was the one who Quinn was slowly pushing to lie down on the bed, _she_ was the one who Quinn draped herself across, and _she_ was the only person from now on who got to kiss Quinn this way.

Her hands grabbed at Quinn's waist possessively, securing there and pulling Quinn flush against her body until she felt all of their curves meld together. Quinn chuckled throatily, sending a shiver down Rachel's spine. "Someone's learning," she murmured against Rachel's lips.

Rachel nodded, leaning up to connect their lips again. She felt a hand cup her cheek and sighed as things were slowly reverting back to what had become the norm for her. She ran her hands up and down Quinn's back. It took a few passes along the middle of Quinn's back before Rachel realized there was a distinct _lack_ of bra clasp pressing against her hand. She exhaled a shaky breath against the pair of warm lips plying hers apart as her hands fumbled along Quinn's shoulders to look for confirmation. She rubbed the backs of her shoulders up and down before her hands converged towards the middle of Quinn's back to once again not feel a bra clasp.

"I'm not wearing one," Quinn mumbled as she pulled back to kiss the corner of her mouth. Rachel moaned as her fingers splayed out along Quinn's back, and for the first time, she imagined what Quinn's actual naked, round breasts would look like.

Quinn kissed a hot trail down her jaw, then pressed her lips deeply against her neck. Rachel wheezed a ragged breath, knowing what was coming as she stared unseeingly up at the ceiling. A soft bite was pressed into her skin and her eyes slipped shut as she buried her hands in Quinn's hair, holding her closer as heat fanned out along her body before collecting low in her belly where it simmered as she moaned.

Kisses were littered across her collarbone from one side to the other. Then she positively _squirmed_ as Quinn dragged her tongue slowly back across. She clenched her thighs together and her hips shifted just the barest hint towards Quinn who pulled back immediately.

Rachel's eyes fluttered open to find Quinn's darkened eyes boring into her own. Her face was flushed, hair a bit wild as it framed her face and fell over her shoulders. Rachel licked her lips as they stared at each other silently. She wasn't going to apologize for her body's natural reaction. But she knew Quinn wasn't going to continue because of it either.

Rachel swallowed, her throat dry and her voice scratchy as she rasped, "It's…natural, really."

That seemed to break Quinn out of whatever trance she was in. Her eyes dipped from Rachel's to stare at the hickey she had just created. "I know," she muttered. "But still…"

"I get that you want to stop when that happens. Just know that it's not really something I can control." Her cheeks flushed scarlet in embarrassment because she felt like such a _boy_. The very thing she was doing was what she had chastised Finn about so many times before. But she understood now how the human body simply _wanted_ sometimes, whether she was mentally ready for what her body was doing or not.

She wasn't expecting Quinn to smile but she did, tentatively, and Rachel returned it as she reached out and grabbed Quinn's hand.

"If you think you can control yourself," Quinn began, voice low and warm with a hint of teasing as she continued, "you can sleep in here tonight if you want."

Rachel blinked hard as she stared at the room around them, then back at Quinn. "Here? In the same bed?"

Quinn's expression suddenly became guarded. "Unless you'll be uncomfortable—"

"No," Rachel assured with a shake of her head as she sat up to face Quinn. "I won't. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page."

Their hands were still clasped and the barely there feel of Quinn loosely interlocking their fingers caused her heart to flutter.

Then Rachel nearly jumped out of her skin as someone pounded harshly on the other side of the door. "This sleepover isn't done yet, so get your asses out here!" Santana's voice, though muffled, rang loud and clear through the room. "Quinn, this is what it feels like to have your whoopee time interrupted. Payback's a bitch and so are you!"

Quinn jaw shifted back in forth in annoyance as her eyes narrowed. "I hate that girl," she muttered. "I literally hate her."

Rachel chuckled quietly, feeling loopy from holding Quinn's hand and the tingles from her neck sparking through her.

"Hurry up!" Santana yelled, knocking loudly again.

Quinn sighed and slid off the bed, walking towards the door as Rachel followed behind for the rest of the sleepover.


	15. Chapter 15

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

**A/N 1: **As always, thank you all for your reviews; it's nice/fun to read what you think.

**A/N 2:**To the lovely anon from last chapter who asked if I had a Tumblr, I do not, sorry. I have toyed with the idea of getting a fandom Tumblr a few times, though. But I don't really want to get so heavily involved in a fandom, especially since this will probably be my last season of watching Glee. All I want to do is write. But anyway, if you want to communicate with me for whatever reason, my PM is always on. :)

* * *

><p>There was a warm pressure weighing down on Rachel's chest as she lied on the bed, the beginnings of consciousness tickling her brain. A content sigh escaped her at the feeling. She stretched, or attempted to, but whatever was on her chest was also on the lower half of her body. In a moment of panic her eyes pried open to blearily stare down at a mop of blonde hair cascading over her chest and arms. Rachel stared down in shock as the length of Quinn's body was covering her own. A hand was curled around her side, holding her in place as Quinn slept soundly.<p>

Rachel laid back again, dark brown hair splaying over white pillows as she stared up at the ceiling. Last night had not been what she had been expecting at all when hanging out with the three most popular girls in school. She had expected Truth or Dare, Seven Minutes in Heaven, drinking games, or hell at least gossiping about school events. They did none of those things and Rachel couldn't be sure if it was because she was there or because these girls really were a lot more pedestrian than they perpetrated on a daily basis.

All they did was watch a few movies, Rachel and Quinn on one end of the couch and Santana and Brittany on the other end. The occasional loud smacking sounds of the occupants at the other end of the couch making out had made Rachel blush in embarrassment off and on through the night. But the one shining moment of glory for her was when she had managed to get close enough to Quinn to lay her head on her shoulder. And after a few painstaking minutes, the soft pressure of Quinn's head on her own made everything worth it.

They had all gone to bed after that. Rachel suspected that the partying they had done the night before and hadn't invited her to, coupled with the suicides Santana had complained of Sue making them run that day had made Quinn, Santana, and Brittany tired.

They all retired to bed after a third or fourth movie. Rachel hadn't really been able to sleep with Quinn in the same bed. Her body had been humming with the desire to reach out and touch Quinn who had fallen asleep after not much more than a murmured, "Good night." The most courage Rachel had been able to muster was smoothing a lock of blonde hair away from Quinn's face that she had been adorably fussing over in her sleep.

Rachel had fallen sleep very much on her own side of the bed. And she had awakened very much on her own side of the bed. The only person who didn't seem to follow that trend—though Rachel was hardly complaining, quite the opposite—was Quinn.

She reached down to softly comb her fingers through rich blonde hair. It had tangled a little in Quinn's sleep and the more loose knots Rachel untangled, the more Quinn stirred until she finally woke up. Rachel knew the exact moment Quinn awoke because of the way she sagged against her before tensing as awareness kicked in. Her entire body went rigid and Rachel lay silently below her, waiting for Quinn to make a move.

Several seconds later, Quinn slowly brought a hand to her face, lazily rubbing at her eyelids before she looked up.

This was, quite possibly, the dopiest grin Rachel had ever worn in her life as she stared down into unfocused hazel eyes. "Good morning," she murmured.

A hand immediately covered Quinn's face as she looked away. "I must look awful," she grumbled.

"You look beautiful," Rachel countered quietly.

Her hand slowly slid down her face to reveal a barely there smile before she pushed up and off of Rachel to scramble off the bed. "Sorry for…crowding you or whatever," she said, not quite meeting Rachel's eyes. "I'm not normally—I've never slept in a bed with another person, so I didn't know I'd—"

"It's okay, Quinn," Rachel soothed as she sat up as well. "I didn't mind it at all; you don't have to apologize."

Quinn finally looked up to meet Rachel's eyes. She nodded, just once, then walked quickly to her bag in the corner of the room. "I should probably get dressed. Do you want the bathroom first, or—"

"Go ahead," Rachel offered, lying back on the bed.

A second later Quinn was gone, leaving Rachel monumentally confused once again. Last time she checked, cuddling wasn't a bad thing. But also, last time she checked, Quinn was simultaneously the prettiest and most confusing girl she had ever met. She sighed, eyes fluttering as she dipped between consciousness and unconsciousness.

When she opened them again, Quinn was rummaging around the room in a floral dress. Rachel watched her in silence, the way sleek muscles hidden by her dress moved with every step Quinn took. Rachel sat up and rubbed at her eyes. "Do you like being a Cheerio?" she asked curiously, as she stared hard at lean muscles move.

Quinn straightened and turned around to face her. She stared at Rachel for a moment before slowly walking over to the bed, smoothing down the skirt of her dress and sitting down beside her as Rachel scooted over to allow room. "I don't _hate_ it," Quinn said with a little head tilt.

Rachel pressed her elbow into her leg and rested her head on her hand. "What do you like about it?"

"The power," Quinn sighed with a small smile and eye roll. "The popularity, I like being number one, you know?"

She nodded. "I like being glee club captain."

Quinn chuckled. "I thought you were a _co-captain_ with Finn?"

Her lips twisted as she tried to find a way to say what she wanted to without essentially dissing Finn. Finally, she settled on, "I think Finn is a very capable individual, when given help. However, I am glee club captain."

Quinn laughed a little harder with a dark, manicured eyebrow cocked with incredulity. The rich sound of Quinn's genuine amusement warmed her whole body over.

Quinn leaned back, her hands splaying out on the bed to Rachel's left as her body occupied most of Rachel's right. Then she turned to look at her with newfound interest. "Sorry for acting weird earlier," Quinn mumbled. "I just…I don't know what I'm doing," she admitted.

"Would it help to know that I don't really know what I'm doing either?" Rachel offered with a sympathetic smile.

"A little," she said with a sigh as she turned away to stare down at her lap.

As much as she wanted to be closer, Rachel kept her distance, ever mindful of her morning breath. "We can keep talking if you want. A continuation of last night, if you're up for it, that is."

"I'd rather not," Quinn said as she turned back to Rachel. "If you don't mind. I'm kind of—I'm not ready to talk about that stuff again yet."

Rachel nodded in understanding, twisting her fingers into loose threads in the blanket. She stilled and held Quinn's gaze. "Whenever you're ready," she said sincerely.

Quinn's eyes strayed to her lap as her chest heaved with a deep breath. "Thanks."

Rachel smiled as she pulled the covers back. The cold air hit her skin and her legs prickled in goosebumps as she swung them over the bed. Quinn's gaze slid absentmindedly towards them before looking back up at Rachel again.

"I suppose I should go freshen up," she yawned as she stretched towards the ceiling.

Quinn smirked as she stood up with Rachel. "Yeah, I could smell your breath all the way over here."

Rachel spun around to look at her. "Are you serious?" she asked with a whining lilt to her voice. Her bottom lip jutted out as her eyes widened candidly.

A slow, faint blush stained Quinn's cheeks as her gaze fell to Rachel's pouted bottom lip. She blinked rapidly before looking back up at Rachel's eyes. "No, I was joking," she mumbled. "Anyway, I should probably go make breakfast." Her hands ran down her dress as she walked out of the room. "I'll see you downstairs."

She walked out of the room after that, for once _not_ leaving Rachel confused as Rachel smiled secretly to herself before gathering her belongings and walking towards the bathroom.

About twenty minutes later, she was showered fresh and ready to start her day. She buttoned up her blue plaid shirt, tucked it into her red and black plaid skirt, and slipped a dark blue sweater vest over her shirt. She beamed proudly at herself in the mirror before walking out of the bathroom.

Standing at the top of the stairs, she silently watched the scene before her with a fond smile for the three people she was slowly coming to know. Santana was sitting in a chair at the kitchen table, slumped low and looking cranky. Brittany was fumbling with the coffee machine and Quinn was at the stove flipping pancakes. All of their movements look practiced and easy, as if this was a normal occurrence for them. She walked quietly down the stairs, not wanting to startle such concentrated tranquility as she slipped into the seat beside Santana. "Good morning," she chirped happily.

Santana peeled her eyes open to glare at Rachel coldly. Rachel's own eyes widened in anxiety as they dropped down and away to Brittany who offered an apologetic smile and said, "She's really cranky until she gets her coffee."

Brittany blew cool air over a steaming cup of coffee before she handed it to Santana. Santana took a long sip with a languid sigh before pressing a kiss in thanks to Brittany's cheek.

Rachel stood up from the seat, feeling like a voyeur. She walked further into the kitchen where Quinn was placing a fourth pancake onto a stack. "Brittany, your stack is up!"

Rachel walked over to the sink to lean against it and watch Quinn as Brittany pranced in and grabbed the stack. "Thanks, Q!"

"No problem," Quinn mumbled. She poured more batter into the pan before looking over to Rachel. "Do you want a stack? I can make Brittany and Santana split two and make the next two yours."

Rachel blinked once in surprise. "They eat four pancakes all by themselves?"

Quinn smirked as she weaseled the spatula in her hand under a pancake and flipped it with ease. "We're growing girls, Rachel."

She swallowed thickly at the low timbre Quinn's voice had taken on. Her eyes strayed from her control and ran down Quinn's body before snapping back up to her profile. "I see," she murmured.

A moment later, Quinn flipped over the golden brown pancake and placed it on a plate. "You want it?"

Rachel smiled. "I'd love to, but I can't. I'm a vegan."

Quinn frowned, brow furrowing in confusion as she slowly retracted the plate. She looked down at the pancake, then at the ingredients strewn about on the counter beside her. "This has—it's the eggs, right?"

Rachel's smile widened, glad that she didn't have to explain veganism to Quinn the way she had to with Finn. "And the milk, yes."

Quinn's lips twisted in thought as she sat the pancake down on the counter beside her. "So, you can't really eat much of anything here, I'm assuming," she said as her lips pursed alluringly. Rachel's gaze dropped down to them briefly before meeting Quinn's eyes again.

"Probably not," she admitted. "It's alright though. I can go home and eat there."

"Whose mouth over there do I have to kiss to get another pancake?" Santana griped from the table.

"I feel bad about you having to go home on an empty stomach," Quinn told her as she ignored Santana's rant yet poured more batter into the pan.

"I'll be fine," Rachel assured with a head nod. "I'll just to call my fathers now." She pushed off of the sink and walked past Quinn, casting a glance behind her as she walked upstairs.

She walked to her bag, dragging her feet because she wanted to stay with Quinn a little longer, but she'd have to go home eventually. Grabbing her phone, she dialed her home phone and waited for her father to answer.

"_Hello_?"

"Hi, dad," she sighed. "I'm ready to come home now."

"_You don't sound ready_," was Hiram's reply and Rachel pouted as she plopped down on the bed she and Quinn had shared the night prior.

"I'm _not_ ready, dad."

"_Then why don't you stay over for a little longer_?"

"Because I forgot to pack a light breakfast of some sort and there's nothing vegan friendly here for me to eat," she grumbled.

There was some shuffling in the background and the sound of Hiram calling Leroy before Hiram said, "_I'll come get you and Leroy will stay here and cook you breakfast. How's that sound_?"

Rachel couldn't help but smile. "Really good, dad. Thanks."

"_See you in twenty, sweetheart. Bye_."

She flipped her phone shut, sliding it into her bag and slinging her bag over her shoulder. When she trotted back downstairs, everyone was at the table eating. Santana and Brittany were having an animated conversation about something Rachel didn't catch as she slid into the seat beside Quinn. "Is it good?" she asked as her eyes flicked from the pancakes to Quinn's glorious mouth as she licked syrup off her lower lip.

"So good," Quinn mumbled before taking another bite.

And really, there shouldn't have been anything sexy about watching someone eat a pancake, but watching that fork disappear into Quinn's mouth before coming back clean was doing something to Rachel she hadn't expected.

"I actually wish you could have some," Quinn said after she gingerly wiped her mouth with a napkin. "I'm a pretty awesome cook."

"She's _alright_," Santana said from the other side of the table.

Quinn turned towards Santana with a cocked eyebrow. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you bitching over the sound of you inhaling the food I made you."

"You can inhale food?" Brittany murmured from beside Santana. "What—are you like a superhero, or something?"

Rachel watched with amusement as Santana and Brittany drifted into their own bubble before she looked towards Quinn, only to find Quinn watching her. "Did you have fun?" Quinn asked quietly.

She nodded with a bright smile. "I did. Santana has made me feel very welcome." Her gaze dropped as she chewed on her lower lip nervously. She looked back up to find Quinn staring at her intently. "And I really enjoyed spending time with you and getting to know you better, Quinn," she finished quietly with wide, earnest eyes.

Quinn rubbed her lips together for a long moment as if she was trying to fight back a smile before she simply stated, "I enjoyed it, too."

Rachel's smile stretched so widely it nearly split her face as she stared adoringly at Quinn. She opened her mouth to speak, but her ringing phone blared loudly to life with a recording of herself singing _Don't Rain on My Parade_ she had prerecorded as a ringtone. "Excuse me for one moment," she muttered, cursing whoever was calling as her moment with Quinn got ruined. She didn't have nearly enough contacts in her phone for someone to be calling at such an inopportune time.

"Is that your own voice?" Santana asked incredulously as Rachel pulled her phone from her bag.

Rachel felt her face warm as she fumbled to open her phone. "It's umm—well, I was just tampering around one evening and—_hi_, dad!" she said into the phone exuberantly, playing off Santana's comment as she listened to her father.

"_I'm parked right outside now_," Hiram said.

Rachel's face fell. "Oh…you're pretty early, dad."

"_I thought you'd be hungry_!" he said in his defense.

From her side, Quinn stood up and tugged on a blind on the window behind them. "Blue car?" she asked.

Rachel nodded sullenly. "Yep. Well…thanks for coming, dad. I'll be right out." She hung up the phone with a sigh and stood up with her hands clasped in front of her. "I just wanted to say thank you, Santana," she said with a head nod in her direction, "for inviting me here. I had an amazing time with you and Brittany."

Brittany smiled widely.

Then Rachel took a hesitant step in Quinn's direction. "I'm-I'm just gonna—here." She rose to the tips of her toes and wrapped her arms securely around Quinn's neck. "Thank you," Rachel murmured.

Quinn swallowed thickly as her eyes clenched shut. "For what?"

"Giving us a chance?" Rachel whispered in her ear as her arms tightened. The warm pressure of arms wrapping around her waist caused her stomach to tighten.

"I'm two seconds away from spraying the two of you down," she heard Santana say from the other side of the table.

"I think it's cute," Brittany retaliated.

Rachel figured she'd always have Brittany on her side if everything she did fell into the 'cute' category.

She pressed a fleeting kiss against Quinn's cheek before pulling back with a small smile. "I'll see you Monday." She grabbed her bag and waved goodbye to everyone as she walked to the door.

"Later, Berry."

"Bye, Rachel!"

They sounded like friends, saying goodbye to her like that and it made Rachel's heart swell with pride.

She could hear footsteps behind her as Quinn called, "Hold up," to her just as she made it to the door. As soon as she turned around, warm, full lips were pressing her into the door behind her. The length of Quinn's body suddenly rested against her own everywhere and it was a feeling that would never get old. Rachel grappled with herself, trying to free up a hand to cup Quinn's face, bury into her hair, or wrap around her waist, but one hand was dead weight, white knuckle gripping onto her bag and Quinn seemed to have other ideas anyway.

Her right hand that was flailing above her head was captured gently and tugged downward as Quinn smiled against her. Quinn pulled back enough to murmur, "Take this with you," in warm puffs against Rachel's ear as a clicking sound permeated the fog in Rachel's brain.

Then Quinn pulled away. There was no longer warm breaths against her ear that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end and she missed it. Brown eyes fluttered open to find Quinn staring directly at her through endlessly long eyelashes. Rachel gulped as Quinn's eyes dipped in an obvious signal before her own followed suit.

Quinn was holding her hand, palm up with a pen in her other hand. Rachel watched, wide eyed and slack jawed as Quinn neatly burned seven digits into her hand. Then the pen clicked again and Quinn looked back up at her. She leaned forward, eyes slipping shut as she kissed Rachel slowly. Rachel whimpered, unable to do anything else but sag against the door and take the feeling of soft lips sliding against her own and the push/pull feeling it created in her. The pen clattering to the floor didn't reach her senses, but Quinn cupping her face gently caused warmth to rise to her cheeks as an agile tongue slid languidly along her lower lip. She moaned, unabashedly and squirmed against the door as Quinn's tongue slid inside. Quinn curled a hand around the back of her neck to hold her in place, canting her head more to the side as her tongue twisted and expanded heat throughout Rachel's entire being.

All too soon, in Rachel's opinion, Quinn pulled away. She smiled evilly down at the state she had left Rachel in. "Call me."

Rachel wanted to ask when but Quinn was already walking away, hips swaying as she made her way back into the kitchen. She whistled out a surprised breath and stared down at the number in her hand. Clenching her fist shut, she lifted off the door and opened it with her other hand before walking out.

* * *

><p>"So, what would be the proper etiquette for calling someone you're semi-but-not-really dating?" Rachel asked into the phone as she set up her tripod and new video camera in the corner of her room. She had begged her fathers to finally buy her one because future starlets needed a medium such a MySpace to broadcast their talent.<p>

Translation: she needed a camera of her own because having to buy panties to give to Jacob in exchange for his video camera was becoming ridiculously expensive.

"_Uh, I don't know_," Finn said distractedly a moment later into the phone.

She sighed in exasperation, turning her camera three degrees to the left so it would catch the flicker of emotion in her eyes she always showed when a song she was singing hit a crescendo. "Well, what did you do when Quinn gave you her number?"

"_I called her as soon as I got home from school. Then she yelled at me and said I was being too pushy_."

A tiny squeak lodged in her throat because she didn't want to get yelled at. All she wanted was to talk to Quinn.

"Why is dating so hard?" she whined into the phone as she slumped back on the stool behind her. "I just want to talk to her."

"_Yeah, but girls like space, or whatever. That's what Quinn always told me. Just play it cool_."

Rachel stared into her camera with a blank face. "I don't know how to be _cool_."

"_Give it a couple of days. Don't call her tonight; you just saw her a few hours ago. And don't call her tomorrow because then you'll want to talk to her in school too and she doesn't like feeling crowded_."

Her mind swam as Finn gave her all these don'ts about Quinn. This was so complicated.

"_Just wait it out today and tomorrow and talk to her at school to see where her head's at_." He paused for a beat and the sound of someone dying dramatically in the background rang through the phone. "_Sweet_," Finn breathed. "_Anyway, what'd she say to you again? After she wrote her number in your hand_."

"Call me," Rachel said, having had those two words ingrained in her mind and the heavy gaze Quinn had pinned her with as she said it.

"_Okay, so she didn't give a _when_. If she had said soon, I would have told you to call her at least tomorrow. But she didn't give a clue_." He snorted indelicately into the phone. "_Of _course_ she didn't give a clue_."

"So, don't call and wait until Monday?" Rachel asked for confirmation.

"_Monday_," Finn told her.

* * *

><p>To say the rest of her weekend had been long was an understatement. She had Quinn, Quinn Fabray's number saved in her phone and didn't once contact her. It went against every instinct Rachel had, but she powered through it because the last thing she wanted was Quinn yelling at her about wanting space when Rachel was feeling like she was giving Quinn as much time and space as she possibly <em>could<em>. All she wanted to do was hug and kiss all over Quinn and hold her hand until both their palms were a disgusting, sweaty mess, but she refrained from...holding her hand most times, at least.

But not calling Quinn was going to pay off because she was most definitely _not_ going to get yelled at today.

"Morning, girl," Kurt yawned as he approached Rachel. He slouched against the locker beside hers with a sleepy smile.

Rachel stared at him in concern. "Good morning, Kurt." She gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright? Your hair is dull and lifeless today, and that just isn't you."

He waved it off. "I had an exam to study for and crammed all last night." He attempted to run his fingers through his hair to give it volume, but it just fell flat against his head once more and he sighed. "I feel ugly."

"Oh, honey, come here," Rachel cooed as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He patted her back lightly. "Anyway, how was your sleepover with the cool kids?" he asked teasingly.

Rachel pulled back with wide, excited eyes as she began to dish on the Cheerios. "They were so…so _normal_, Kurt. I mean, I couldn't believe it. I just knew we would play Truth or Dare or that they would peer pressure me into my first alcoholic beverage and we would drunk karaoke all night. But all we did was watch movies."

"Well, that's lame," Kurt lamented with a frown. "I thought they'd be more cool."

"They _are_ cool," Rachel corrected. "They don't feel the need to do all the other things that you or I may think are cool because they're already cool. As long as they're cool here, they can do whatever they want behind closed doors."

"You mean like, make out with girls?"

Rachel grinned secretively. She grabbed Kurt's arm and pulled him closer. "I didn't even tell you the best part," she said quietly.

Kurt grinned right back. "Well, spill, girl. We haven't got all day."

"Quinn gave me her number," she whispered excitedly. "Her actual number to her cell phone; she gave me her number!"

"Have you called it?"

"Not…yet."

"Then how do you know it's hers?"

She stopped short, frowning up at him. "Why would she give me a fake number?"

His hand flopped absentmindedly in the air. "I don't know, maybe it's something mean girls do."

"She's not a mean girl," Rachel countered vehemently. "She's nice and soft spoken and surprisingly sensitive."

"Quinn, soft spoken?" he laughed. "That'll be the day."

"That number was real," Rachel said confidently. "Look, Quinn and I have made a connection. And the sooner you understand that and put away your own mistaken impression of who she is, the sooner you can be a supportive friend to me."

Kurt folded his arms across his chest. "I've been nothing but supportive from the very beginning."

"Yeah, of me being gay because that was a personal gain for you," Rachel agreed. "But I like Quinn and…she may like me. Just, please support me on this, okay? Stop waiting for the other shoe to drop because it won't."

"Or it may," Kurt said quietly. "I don't care if you go after Quinn—good for you. But one of us has to be the level headed one while the other is busy being shot repeatedly in the butt by cupid until they're puking hearts. And _I'm_ the level headed person for you," he finished, poking Rachel squarely in the chest.

Rachel glared up at Kurt, eyes blazing defiantly because the possibility of Quinn giving her a fake number was something she wasn't willing to hear. But the sincerity in Kurt's eyes caused her to deflate. She sighed, turning back to her locker. "You're a good friend," she said quietly. "And I appreciate you. Just don't try to get in my way on this. Please."

Kurt crossed one leg over the other as he looked down the hallway. "Fine. I won't."

"Thank you."

Kurt sucked his teeth. "Heads up. Your Queen Bee is coming this way."

Rachel brought her head out of her locker in time to see Quinn walking down the hallway with Santana and Brittany at her side. It was as if nothing had changed in the last two and a half months as Rachel stood at her locker and pined after the most popular girl in school. But so much had changed. And it was ever present as Quinn turned to look at her, then made a beeline directly for her.

The closer she got the more irritation shown clearly on her face. Rachel panicked at the furrow in her brow, the tensing of her shoulders, and the narrowing of her eyes.

"She looks kinda pissed," Kurt said from somewhere behind her.

"I gathered," Rachel grumbled before Quinn made a smooth stop in front of her.

"We need to talk," Quinn said tersely. Her hands found her hips as her eyes cut from Rachel to Kurt sharply. Rachel swallowed thickly. This wasn't the Quinn she had been dealing with two days ago. This was Head Cheerio Quinn Fabray and it unnerved her as much as it surprisingly excited her.

"I'll see you later, Rachel," she heard Kurt call from behind her. "Good luck."

She couldn't take her eyes off Quinn who was looking at Kurt as he walked away. Then hazel eyes flicked over the people in the hallway before burning angrily into brown eyes. "Is something the matter?" Rachel asked nervously.

Quinn's shoulders seemed to slump as her eyes rounded into something resembling softness. "Why didn't you call me?" she asked, accusation dripping from her voice.

Rachel's jaw dropped as she quickly fumbled for an excuse, cursing Finn loudly in the back of her mind as she stared up at Quinn's angry and confused eyes. "I-I—I'm sorry, I just—"

"Are you toying with me?" Quinn asked coldly as she stepped closer.

Rachel rapidly shook her head. "No, never, I—"

"_Don't_ toy with me, Rachel."

"I'm _not_," she promised. "Honestly, Quinn, I'm not." Her hand reached out to touch her before awareness that they were in school occurred to her. Her fingers curled into her hand, just inches away from Quinn as she stared up at her pleadingly. "I'm not toying with you," she said quietly, voice bouncing all over the place in pitch as her throat bobbed with a tight swallow. "I like you; you know I do."

Quinn sighed and seemed to deflate altogether. She clasped her hands behind her and leaned back against the locker as she stared across the hallway. Rachel hazarded a step closer, wishing Quinn was looking at her instead. "I was being foolish," she whispered. "I didn't want to seem…_clingy_ because I didn't think that would be what you wanted."

Quinn didn't say anything as she continued to stare forward. Her jaw clenched tightly, creating more tantalizing definition in her jawline that Rachel had to force her gaze away from in order to reassure Quinn. "I thought you would want space to figure out your own emotions. I thought I was doing a good thing."

"You should have asked me," Quinn said, voice clipped and monotone.

Rachel winced, chewing on her lower lip. "I wasn't thinking when you gave me your number," she explained softly. "You had just kissed me and I was kind of rendered brain dead afterwards."

A small smile quirked the corners of Quinn's mouth up and Rachel smiled back. "Had I have been thinking, I would have asked you if you wanted me to call or if you wanted me to give you space. I'm sorry."

Neither one of them moved for a long moment. All Rachel wanted to do was wrap her arms around Quinn's waist and cling but they were in a—she looked around—they were in a mostly empty hallway that was steadily dwindling in numbers.

The late bell rang and Quinn turned her head to the left. Then she turned her head to the right, looked around Rachel, down the hallway, and back to Rachel again. "Don't assume things," Quinn said after a moment.

"I won't," Rachel sighed, running a hand through her hair before crossing her arms over her middle. "I thought I was doing what you wanted."

"Sometimes I _do_ really just want space and time," Quinn admitted. "But this weekend I—" she shook her head back and forth. "You should have called me."

"I'm sorry." Rachel took another step closer. It was getting harder and harder to fight against her instincts to hug Quinn in the middle of the hallway, but that would be somewhat outing them both if anyone saw. And though she was becoming increasingly more comfortable with her sexuality, having the school at large know was a different situation all together. And she wasn't really ready for that. "Should I call you tonight?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "I have Cheerios practice, Bible study, and an exam to study for tomorrow. I'll be busy."

"Oh," was all Rachel said, disappointment weighing down her slumped shoulders.

"Don't look so upset, Berry. If you had called me last night, this wouldn't be a problem."

Her gaze shot up sharply to defend herself and apologize all in one breath, but hazel eyes gleamed with playful mockery as Quinn smirked down at her.

"I suppose it wouldn't," Rachel replied diffidently.

Quinn pursed her lips in thought, chin jutting out as she said, "Call me tomorrow night. Or else lose my number."

She couldn't have been serious; there was a hickey on Rachel's neck that Quinn had given her for crying out loud! Surely one didn't really mean it when they told another to lose their number after sucking on their neck until a bruise, a _love_ bite rose.

Rachel must have had the craziest look on her face because Quinn clutched her stomach with a quiet laugh. "I'm joking," she said warmly. "Maybe."

She couldn't help but smile back, wondering when her heart was going to stop fluttering and how in the world she managed to fall in love with arguably the most unattainable girl in school.


	16. Chapter 16

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

**A/N:**I forgot to say last chapter that my second semester is starting up at school. So I probably won't be able to update as often as I have all of January, but the updates will more than likely still be fairly often.

* * *

><p>Rachel had officially put Finn on a time out.<p>

After he had, admittedly _accidentally_, given her horrible advice on how to approach the situation of when to call Quinn and got Rachel semi-yelled at, she didn't really want to talk to him anymore for a while. The stipulation was, no talking in or outside of school unless it was absolutely necessary, such as working on their duet that they had to perform next week. _That_ was of course enough of a reason for the two of them to verbally communicate with each other. But beyond that, Rachel wasn't having it.

Besides, she had to focus on other things. Like, calling Quinn today because if she didn't, she'd have to 'lose her number'. Rachel decided to put loose quotations on that particular demand from Quinn because now that she had Quinn Fabray's number, there was no way she would delete that from her phone for anything.

Be that as it may, though, she was still pacing her room, trying to work up the courage to actually put that phone number to use as her eyebrows slowly knitted together.

Even Quinn's phone number was beautiful. It started and ended evenly with the number eight in a way that really soothed Rachel's mild OCD.

She walked over to her bedroom door and closed it soundly, twisting the lock into place. Her heart rate began to pick up speed as she walked over to her bed. She sat perched anxiously on her bed as her tongue lapped out at her suddenly dry lips.

Finally, she took a deep breath…and pressed the call button.

The dial tone had her waiting with bated breath until the call was picked up on its third ring.

"Hello?"

Despite feeling overwhelming anxiety, Rachel couldn't help but smile at the sound of Quinn's voice wafting through the phone. "Hi, Quinn," she whispered nervously. "It's Rachel."

"Rachel, hi," Quinn sighed over the line. "You called."

Rachel let loose a bashful laugh. "You said lose your number if I didn't call, so…"

"I did," Quinn replied, voice warm yet unapologetic with a hint of amusement. Rachel could practically picture the lazy, self-satisfied smile on Quinn's face. "I'm glad you called." Her voice had suddenly gone low and intimate and nearly caused Rachel to swallow her own tongue as she tried to formulate some form of response.

"R-really?" she asked quietly, clutching the phone closer.

"Mhm. How are you?"

Rachel smiled at the cordial tone Quinn's voice had taken on. Despite being a sometimes bully, Quinn had always been oddly mannerable and the dissonance it created never failed to appeal to Rachel for some reason.

"Nervous," Rachel admitted after a moment.

"Nervous about what?_"_ Quinn asked. There was some shuffling in the background, then she said, "In a minute, mom; I'm busy," in a muffled voice, before telling Rachel, "Sorry, my mom came into my room, but she's gone now."

So she _did_ have parents, after all. Rachel busied herself with wondering what they looked like as she spoke into the phone. "I'm nervous to be talking to you, really."

Quinn's quiet giggle wafted through the phone. "You don't have to be nervous to talk to me. I mean, sure, okay, I _am_ the most popular girl in school."

Rachel rolled her eyes as Quinn laughed again.

"But, anyway, I'm just a girl, Rachel. And it's not like we haven't talked at great length before."

"But still," Rachel hedged. "You're…you're Quinn Fabray."

"Yeah, to losers who stare creepily at me in the hallway."

Rachel winced at how easily Quinn could throw that word around. A word that had been hurtfully directed at her so many times since she started high school. No matter how much time they spent together outside of school, it wouldn't obliterate the thick line of social hierarchy that separated them.

She swallowed tightly, choosing to ask the rapidly forming question in her mind now instead of later. "Am I a loser?" she whispered.

On the other end of the line, Quinn sighed deeply. Then the line went silent. It was nerve-wracking because Rachel wasn't sure she could be with someone who still thought so lowly of her. "Quinn?" she said tremulously. "Quinn, are you there?"

"No," Quinn answered after a moment. "No, you aren't."

A wide smile that threatened to break her face pulled Rachel's lips impossibly high as she stared goofily at the wall in front of her. She pulled the phone away, covered a hand over it and squealed with joy as her eyes clenched shut and her face crinkled happily. She brought the phone back to her ear. "Really?" she asked, wanting that validation again.

"Yeah." Quinn stopped talking for a bit and Rachel leaned back on her bed as she waited for what she was hoping was a continuation of talking about her improving reputation. "And…I'm sorry," Quinn grumbled. "I shouldn't have—I didn't mean it…when I called you all of those things."

Her features smoothed over into muted shock as she stared up at her ceiling. Suddenly, this wasn't longer about ego stroking anymore. Rachel had just…she had just received an _apology_ for how Quinn used to treat her at the most unlikely time—she had never even expected to receive one, ever probably. Yet, here she was, on the phone with her former tormenter, turned who knows what, but there was a lot of fucking gray lines. And Quinn was expressing remorse. This moment felt—

"Rachel?" Quinn whispered softly into the phone. "Are you still there?"

"I'm here," Rachel assured, voice just as quiet and fragile as they both attempted to walk on the broken glass of Quinn's slowly shattering façade without hurting themselves. "I—thank you."

"Don't thank me," Quinn mumbled.

Rachel took a deep breath. "Okay," she whispered. "Okay." She rubbed a hand along her rumpled forehead, feeling heavy all of a sudden. An annoying beeping sound resounded in her ear and rattled around in her head before she pulled her phone away to squint at it in irritation. It was another incoming call. From Finn.

She sighed with a roll of her eyes. "Quinn?" she voiced softly.

"Hmm?"

"I have an incoming call and—"

"Oh. I can let you go if you want," Quinn quickly said.

"No, no," Rachel urgently replied. "I want to talk to you. I'll just switch over and tell Finn I'll call him back, okay?"

"Sure," Quinn sighed noncommittally. It was pretty easy for Rachel to imagine her shrugging a single shoulder the way she always did when trying for aloofness.

"Okay, I'll be right back." Rachel clicked over, hoping Quinn was going to be on the other line when she returned. "Hello?"

"Hey, Rachel. Umm, what's up?" Finn asked as innocently as he could.

"Finn," Rachel replied evenly, glaring at the ceiling in an attempt to stay mad.

"Oh, so you're still mad, I see_."_ He laughed nervously and Rachel's lips twitched before they turned downwards. "What are you doing?"

"I'm on the phone with Quinn," she said concisely. "I will have to give you a call back."

"C'mon, Rachel, you can't possibly still be mad," he said. "It was an honest mistake."

"She yelled at me!" Rachel shrieked.

"You said she hardly even yelled."

"Even still!"

"Look, are you gonna be mad at me forever? 'Cause I know girls like to stay mad for a long time and stuff, but I thought we were like, you know, buds and stuff. So, you can't stay mad. Guy logic, remember? You said you liked it."

She smiled reluctantly as she listened to the way Finn could break down things into their simplest forms. "Okay," she sighed. "I forgive you. But I really have to go, okay? Quinn is on the other line."

"You don't want to get yelled at again," Finn said with a laugh. "She doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Okay, okay, I forgive you. I have to go now. Good night, Finn." She quickly clicked back over to the other line. "Quinn? Quinn, are you there?" she asked frantically.

"Are the two of you still friends?" Quinn asked out of nowhere.

"Who?" Rachel asked, a swoosh of breath leaving her in relief.

"_Finn_."

She said his name with a hard _F_ the way she always did when they used to argue over him and it had made Rachel's stomach twist for some unknown reason then, but now the feeling was very familiar and stimulatingly welcome.

"Yeah," she breathed into the phone. Then she cleared her throat. "He's a good friend."

"Does he know?"

Rachel had come to learn that Quinn had a way of speaking in which she could remove all emotions from a single sentence, leaving Rachel nothing to go by when trying to figure out the best way to answer. She tapped her fingers absentmindedly against her stomach. "Know about what, exactly?"

"You know, about…you, and…me," Quinn said stiltedly, before letting loose a quick cough that only made things all the more awkward.

"Oh…he-he does know," Rachel replied hesitantly.

Quinn didn't say anything for a very long time. Then she muttered something that Rachel didn't quite catch before she said, "Who _else_ knows, Rachel?" in a strained and annoyed tone of voice.

Rachel sat up straight in her bed as if to defend herself, though no one was in the room. She licked her lips nervously. "Kurt," she whispered.

"_That gossip queen_!" Quinn shrieked. Her voice rose to the ceiling, then cracked under the weight of its own outrage and Rachel practically _felt_ Quinn fuming on the other end of the line. "Tell me you're joking."

Rachel shook her head. "I'm not," she said quietly.

"He could tell everyone!" Quinn hissed.

"He won't," Rachel assured. "I promise, he won't."

"Either of them could tell!"

"Neither will, Quinn. I promise."

"How would you know?"

"Because Kurt is my friend and he's gay, too, obviously. And Finn won't ruin his reputation or destroy my trust for him by telling any of his jock friends that his two ex-girlfriends are…_involved_," she finished very carefully.

"Are you sure?" Quinn whispered after a moment, sounding completely terrified.

"Trust me," Rachel said softly.

Quinn chuckled a hollow laugh. "I don't really trust anyone."

"You trust Santana and Brittany to keep your secret, right?"

"To a degree," Quinn slowly agreed. "But mostly, I just know neither of them would tell because then I'd out them, too."

Rachel's jaw dropped in shock at the statement. She had never met someone so abrupt and cut-throat. "Don't you trust anybody?"

"No," Quinn responded with automatically. "Why trust people when they all want to use you for their own personal gain?"

"Is that what you really believe?" Rachel asked sadly.

"Yep."

Rachel rose from her bed and walked over to her computer. She sat down on her chair and stared at the bewildered expression on her face through the blank screen before turning the computer on. "Then what do _I_ want from you?" she asked boldly.

"I think—" Quinn started, but quickly stopped talking. Rachel waited patiently as her computer booted up. She grabbed her camera and its USB chord from her desk and sat it beside her computer. "I don't know," Quinn finished, almost petulantly.

Rachel stopped everything and grabbed the phone tightly, staring off into nothing as she mulled over what she was about to say. "I just—what I want, Quinn, is for you to figure out how you feel about me."

Quinn hummed vaguely. Then she went silent again. Rachel shrugged a shoulder and dragged her mouse to the internet icon on her desktop before double clicking.

"Did you like kissing Finn?" Quinn unassumingly asked after a minute.

Rachel's fingers paused typing in MySpace's url as she squinted at her computer screen. "It was alright," she answered.

Quinn laughed unexpectedly at that before quietly throwing out, "You are so gay."

Rachel frowned at the passing comment. "Did _you_ enjoy kissing Noah?"

A muted gasp reached her ears before Quinn asked, "How did you—who told you?"

She winced at her own blunder. But admitted, "Noah told Finn, who told me."

"_Of course_," Quinn scoffed.

A heavy, awkward silence prevailed between them and Rachel scooted away from her computer to better focus on the conversation. "Did you?"

"He was a good kisser," Quinn said resolutely.

Rachel almost smiled. "That wasn't what I asked."

Quinn went silent again, unsurprisingly. Rachel went back to her computer, logging onto MySpace while splitting her attention to listen to Quinn's false starts before she finally managed to string a sentence together.

"Do you think I'm gay?" Quinn asked, very quietly.

It was such a heavy question, laced with genuine curiosity and startling vulnerability that gripped Rachel's heart and squeezed until sympathy for Quinn poured out abundantly. No matter how larger than life Quinn was at school, she was still a_ girl_ who was unsure, much like Rachel herself was and still is at times, and moments like this always reminded Rachel of how similar they were.

She cleared her throat, strumming her fingers against her desk as she spoke. "I think that, whatever sexuality you choose to identify with—because ultimately it will be your choice, Quinn. Only you can decide what you are, and you don't have to make such a large decision now." Rachel took a deep breath. "That being said, however, I do think you have a distinct preference towards girls," she finished carefully.

"Hmm. And you don't think that's weird?"

Rachel smiled wryly. "You're asking a reluctant admitted lesbian if she finds your preference for girls weird?"

Quinn released a shuddery laugh. "I guess I am?" she said with an inflection in her voice that made her statement a question.

"No, I don't think that's weird at all," Rachel said warmly.

She heard Quinn sigh, almost as if she was relieved. Then there was some shuffling before Quinn sighed languidly. "What are you doing?"

"Uploading a new video of my vocal performances onto my MySpace," she chirped.

Quinn snorted out a laugh. "You do know people don't use MySpace anymore, don't you?"

"_You_ do," Rachel shot back with an amused grin. She was expecting Quinn to quickly bounce back with a witty retort, but none was forthcoming. Quinn had gone completely silent again. Rachel pulled her phone away to make sure they were still connected before bringing the phone towards he ear again. "Quinn?"

"Do you forgive me for all of that stuff?" Quinn asked, voice sounding heavy with shame and regret.

"Yeah," Rachel answered softly. "I-I just choose to pretend it didn't happen."

"But it did happen," Quinn insisted.

"Okay," she admitted. "Yes, okay, it happened. You called me names."

"And drew pornographic pictures of you."

Rachel smiled despite herself. "Somehow, considering everything that's transpired between us as of late, I don't mind those drawings."

Quinn chuckled quietly.

"Despite the fact that you did those things, I know that wasn't the real you."

"How can you possibly know that?" Quinn asked skeptically.

"Because I've had the opportunity to spend time with you outside of school, when you don't have to adhere to the social pressures you're normally under. And you're," she searched all of the adjectives in her brain she had racked up over the past few months to describe Quinn, "you're smart, kind of eccentric, nice, caring, gentle, beautiful—"

"You really think that about me?" Quinn asked hesitantly.

"Of course I do," Rachel said softly. "Can I ask you a question, though?"

"Sure, I guess."

Rachel exhaled a quick breath. "Why _did_ you draw those pictures of me?"

"I didn't—" Quinn paused to clear her throat. "I didn't really know of you until months ago when Finn joined glee club. He would-he would talk about you," she said quietly. "He talked about how you were weird and kind of a dork, but he said you were really nice. And I…I don't know. I was jealous. Because he kept going to glee club, going to _you_ and I _hated_ that I couldn't keep him with me." Quinn puffed out a long breath. "Then one day I saw you for myself. And I—" she laughed without humor. "I didn't know how to feel. All I knew was that my stomach hurt_."_

Rachel hummed sympathetically, knowing exactly how that confusion felt from months ago when she didn't necessarily _like_ Quinn, but was aware that she focused way too much time on her for there to be nothing there.

"I drew pictures of you because…" Quinn sighed, "because I thought about you randomly sometimes. I'd insult you in the bathroom before homeroom, then go back to the bathroom when homeroom was over because I couldn't stop picturing your face with all that ridiculous make-up on it."

Rachel pouted as Quinn chuckled. "No offense. Well, _now_, no offense."

"Mhm," Rachel hummed with a frown.

"The day you told me you were gay? I thought about you for the rest of the night," Quinn whispered. "And I had no one to tell, so that information just sat on my mind for the rest of the day and I kept wondering if you were lying to me. Then I kept wondering why I was so interested in you being gay." She sucked her teeth. "But I guess I already knew."

Rachel remained uncharacteristically quiet as she listened to Quinn relay the last several weeks back to her from her own perspective. Rachel had been dying to know since the very beginning what Quinn had been thinking as they danced around each other and the idea of what they could be for weeks until Quinn had finally succumbed to whatever urges she had been having and kissed Rachel breathless. Over and over and over again.

"You were like an experiment," Quinn continued after a moment. "Except, I wasn't testing you; I was testing myself. I would just get close to you sometimes to see what I felt, I guess."

Rachel would have given anything to see what Quinn looked like in this moment. She could almost picture it if she closed her eyes tight enough: the anxious way Quinn was probably dragging the palm of her hand over the back of her neck, or running her fingers through her hair, the way she probably trapped her lower lip between her teeth with nerves each time she paused, the way her eyes were probably darting all around her room.

"But I—" Rachel pictured her licking her lips nervously. "I constantly wanted to be closer. Every time and that confused me. Then Santana and Brittany suggested I should invite you over to my house, so I did. And I just—after talking to you I just wanted to know…what it felt like to kiss you. So, I tried, but Santana wanted to be a bitch and interrupt, so I didn't get the chance."

"When I finally kissed you, I couldn't stop," Quinn said shakily a moment later. Her voice had drooped in pitch to liquefy and flow through the phone smoothly. "I still can't stop. Rachel, you have no idea…_"_ she trailed off, took a deep breath, but didn't continue.

Rachel's chest heaved with a large breath of anticipation before she shut her eyes tightly to calm herself when it was obvious Quinn wasn't going to continue. "I like kissing you," she murmured.

A knock on her door caused her to jump nearly two feet into the air as she whirled around with wide eyes to the door. She stumbled out of her chair and towards the door. "Hold, please," she mumbled into the phone as she opened the door to find Leroy standing there. "Can I help you with something, daddy?" she asked impatiently.

Leroy smirked amusedly down at the irritation clearly shown on his daughter's face. "Actually, you can. If you see my daughter, can you tell her it's time for her to go to bed?"

Rachel's jaw dropped. "But it's only—"

"Eleven o'clock? Yep."

Her eyes widened as she slapped a hand to her forehead. "Good night, daddy," she grumbled as she closed the door. She leaned back against it with a sigh. "Quinn?"

"You have to go to bed," Quinn guessed astutely. "No big deal, I'll just see you tomorrow in school."

Rachel pouted, not wanting to say good night just as the conversation was going from good to great. But she couldn't help from smiling a little at Quinn's seemingly simple promise of them seeing each other tomorrow.

"Have you ever been to one of our football games?" Quinn blurted out.

"I have not," Rachel answered, unsure of where this conversation was going.

"We have one tomorrow after school," Quinn elaborated. "You should come."

Rachel's brow furrowed as she failed to make heads or tails of this conversation. "I've never been much of a football enthusiast, Quinn. I don't even know the rules and—"

"_Rachel_," Quinn husked suddenly and Rachel stopped everything she was doing as _that_ tone of voice wrapped around her brain and melted it completely. "I'll be cheering for the game. And I want you to be in the crowd. Okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, nearly whimpered.

"Great. Have a good night, Rachel."

"Good night, Quinn."

She hung up, then _squealed_ so loudly that she was thankful she had soundproof walls. She placed her phone neatly on her bed and set about to prepare for a good night's sleep.

Rachel stared at herself in the mirror of her bathroom, feeling abundantly proud of herself. This was what progress felt like—she knew because she was a master at the art of progress, whether it be singing, dancing, acting; she was constantly evolving and progressing and Quinn was yet another area in her life she was slowly mastering. It was like chipping away at an ice berg, or, as Finn had said months ago before Rachel even agreed to embark on this journey of winning Quinn's heart, it was like cracking a nut.

And slowly yet surely, Quinn was cracking, unraveling, falling apart at the seams and Rachel was going to be there for every moment of it.

She walked back into her room and quickly changed clothes, wondering what tomorrow would bring. Her computer screen glared at her from across the room and she went over to check her MySpace once more before shutting her computer down. When she checked her video, she only had one view and one a comment.

A comment from Quinn.

A comment that brought tears to Rachel's eyes.

_Sky Splits:_

_I really liked it._


	17. Chapter 17

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

* * *

><p>It was game day and, for once in her one and a half year high school career, she was excited. There was an entire day of classes to get through, but Rachel already had butterflies in her stomach, waiting until after school when Quinn would run out onto the football field and twirl in her red, white, and black uniform.<p>

They were getting closer and closer as the days wore on. But the closer they seemed to get, the closer Rachel wanted them to be. She didn't want a girl she occasionally made out with. She wanted…

She wanted a girlfriend.

Whether she was even ready for that, she didn't _know._ All she knew was that she wanted Quinn Fabray to be hers without a doubt.

She sighed, not allowing her own thoughts to get to her as she saddled up beside Kurt's locker, buzzing with excitement for today's game. "Good morning!"

Kurt eyed her in suspicion. "Someone had a good night."

"I did," she chirped with an enthusiastic nod. "Quinn and I had a lovely conversation over the phone."

He smiled slightly. "So, it was her number, after all."

"Yep, which means you owe me an apology on Quinn's behalf."

Kurt closed his locker, folding his arms across his chest, ever prideful as he looked away from her. "Fine," he conceded sharply. "I apologize."

Rachel squealed and grabbed ahold of his arm as they walked down the hallway. "Great. Now, what are you doing today after school?"

"Having a scotch on the rocks and watching the _Behind the Music _with Courtney Love?"

"I have something even better." She pulled him to a full stop, bracing her hands on his shoulders as she looked him squarely in the eye. "Quinn invited me to the football game today after school. And I want you to go with me."

"What's in it for me?"

"Big, bulging muscles rippling with movement as the football players run down the field?"

Kurt sighed dreamily, looping his arm back around Rachel's as they continued down the hallway. "You had me at 'big'," he admitted. "So, are you and Quinn like, together now or something?"

"No," Rachel lamented with a pout. "She's still trying to figure herself out. And I'm patient, Kurt. I really am. But I want her to just know already and be with me the way we're supposed to."

Kurt nodded. "Though, Rachel it did take us sixteen years to admit to ourselves and our parents that we were gay. Take a conservative, chastity ball attending, celibacy club president like Quinn Fabray and you'll be waiting," he pretended to count of his fingers, "_forty_ years."

"Don't say that!" Rachel cried as Kurt laughed. "You'll make me lose hope."

He waved her off. "Don't lose hope. She's still pinning you to every surface she can and kissing your face off, right?"

Rachel nodded with a sheepish smile.

"Well, there you go. She definitely ain't straight."

It was honestly the first time Rachel had heard someone say that Quinn wasn't straight and it was like music to her ears. Quinn didn't necessarily have to be gay, as long as she was open minded enough for some form of lesbian relationship, Rachel would take it. It was the _getting_ to a relationship part that she was becoming impatient about.

"What you need to start focusing on is how you're gonna handle telling everyone you like munching…long, slender, feminine necks," he finished with a sly smirk.

Rachel rolled her eyes with a giggle. "I don't even want to think about that yet. She definitely won't want to tell anyone, and I don't really want people to know either."

"Hmm, you never struck me as the type to hide in the closet," Kurt said quietly.

She looked around to her peers surrounding them with a sigh. "We're in Lima, Kurt, and I'm not comfortable with anyone knowing I'm gay. Especially with all the homophobia that goes around here."

"I don't blame you," Kurt sighed. "Why do you think I'm not out yet?"

He was more 'out' than he possibly knew, but Rachel didn't have the heart to tell him. "Yeah, well, when I get to New York, I'll be out and proud."

Kurt stopped them both in the middle of the hallway. "You're going to New York? So am I! Broadway?"

She nodded enthusiastically with a wide grin. "I'm going to take over Broadway, one stunningly amazing performance at a time."

"Me, too! See you at the top girl," he said as he walked into class.

Rachel waved goodbye, walking down the hallway to her own class. She slid into her seat, bouncing giddily as she stared at the clock. It was only her first class of the day and she was already ready to burst in excitement for the game.

A very deliberate clearing of the throat caught her attention and Rachel looked to her left to find Molly staring at her. Her jaw twitched as her mouth threatened to open in greeting. But she withheld, waiting for any kind of sign of what was going on.

Molly fidgeted with the pencil in her hand. "Hi," she mumbled. "Umm…how have you been?"

"I've been great, thanks," Rachel said slowly. "I'm surprised you're talking to me. Considering what happened with Santana a few weeks ago."

Her shoulder bounced, blonde hair shifting in a way that made Rachel smile as she thought of Quinn. "Yeah, sorry, I was just—it was weird." Molly shifted in her seat. "I mean, I had never been slushied before and it was…kind of terrifying, to be honest. But I never got the chance to say thank you, so…thank you."

Rachel smiled brightly. "You don't have to thank me. My friends were just being…umm…"

"Mean."

"Protective," Rachel gently corrected.

"I don't understand, though," Molly murmured. "Why would Quinn want to slushie me?"

A hysteric laugh bubbled in Rachel's throat because there was just _no_ _way_ she could answer that question without outing both Quinn and herself. Her fingers strummed on the desk absentmindedly as she quickly strung together a lie. "Well, Quinn and I are…newly forming friends," she explained. Sadly enough that wasn't even a lie. "And she's very protective of her friends."

"Oh." Molly's features pinched slightly. "I guess I lost your friendship over this whole thing, though, huh?"

Rachel shook her head with a smile. "I'm a pretty easy friend to keep, you'll come to realize."

Molly stuck her hand out with a grin. "To friendship, Rachel Berry."

Rachel shook her hand.

* * *

><p>The day was only halfway over.<p>

This was torture. Rachel strolled into the bathroom with a listless sigh. She immediately brightened up, eyes twinkling with glee as she stared at Quinn leaning over the sink towards the far wall to stare at herself in the mirror as she applied red lipstick to her lips.

Rachel swallowed thickly, walking closer. "Good afternoon, Quinn."

Quinn looked at her through the mirror, then pulled back to stare at Rachel with ruby red lips. "Hi," she greeted, almost shyly. She turned back to the sink, pulling out eyeliner from her bag.

Rachel walked over to stand at the sink beside Quinn. "How are you?"

"I'm doing pretty well. How about yourself?"

"Same," Rachel murmured distractedly. She watched in awe as Quinn managed to apply the eyeliner without jabbing herself in the eye. It was the signs of someone who grew up with a mother in the household. Rachel loved her fathers to death, but they had never been able to teach her to properly apply eyeliner around the eye without getting it _in_ the eye.

"Are you coming to the game?"

Rachel nodded enthusiastically. "I wouldn't miss it."

Quinn smiled mildly, pulling the eyeliner from her eye for a split second as if distracted. Then she started back up again.

Two toilets flushing nearly made Rachel jump out of her skin in shock as the stall doors were opened and two Cheerios she didn't know emerged. She swallowed thickly with nervousness. She hadn't known there were other people in the bathroom. When she swiveled around, Quinn gave her a sharp look through the mirror before she capped her eyeliner and dabbed at her eye.

"You're talking to Man Hands now, Quinn?" one of the girls asked. She had long, dark hair, and a long, slim build, towering over Rachel effortlessly. The girl beside her cackled evilly, a platinum blonde with strawberry blonde roots that needed a touch up very soon.

"Watch your mouth," Quinn said quietly, tone steely. The other two straightened at the comment and Rachel's eyes dragged over to the icy glower narrowing Quinn's eyes. Her lips suddenly pulled into a sharp smile. "Rachel and I are a team now because we're in glee club together. Isn't that right, sweetie?"

Rachel swooned so hard she was pretty sure she was going to faint right onto those tiled, unsanitary floors, then die of embarrassment. Quinn had just called her _sweetie_. She was in there. She was _so_ in there, working her way to the top. First it was a little flirting, then it was hot make out sessions, now Quinn was using terms of endearments—it was only a matter of time. She nodded quickly, turning towards the girls. "That's correct. Quinn and I are in glee club together. Therefore, she and I have a kind of…bond, a kinship, if you will." She flashed a shaky smile, butterflies wreaking unspeakable havoc in the pit of her stomach.

Quinn smiled cruelly at the two girls. "Now, Megan, Emily, Rachel is on my team, just like the two of you are on my team. I don't let gross hockey players harass you in the hallways after you've turned them down and I'm not going to let you harass Rachel. Got it?"

Both Megan and Emily turned to glower at Rachel but Rachel couldn't help but feel a bit smug at the fact that Quinn was now making her off limits.

"Oh, and by the way," Quinn continued. "Megan, I'd appreciate if you tightened up that sloppy ponytail on your head, and Emily? It's really time to schedule an appointment because I'm sick of seeing those roots. This is the Cheerios, girls. We're a dignified group. _Act_ like it," she gritted out, purposefully placing emphasis on certain words in a way that made everyone in the room but Rachel jump.

They both walked away without another word, out of the bathroom and Rachel took a deep breath, glad that that was over. She turned back around to find Quinn putting final touches on her make-up. "Thank you," Rachel said sincerely.

Quinn shrugged. "It wasn't that big of a deal."

"It was," she insisted. "Those girls have been bullying me for over a year."

"Partly because of me," Quinn grumbled. Her gaze dropped to stare down at the sink. She gripped the edge of it tightly as she stared down into porcelain.

"You've apologized for that and I forgive you completely." Rachel's lips quirked up. "Besides, you left a lovely comment on my MySpace video last night that I will have you know made me cry."

Quinn's head lolled to the side to face her. "You cried?"

Rachel nodded.

"Softy," Quinn scoffed with a small smile.

Rachel echoed her smile. She risked a step closer, mesmerized by pearly white teeth and deep red lips. Her hand cupped Quinn's cheek softly under its own control, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end at the possibility of being caught as her thumb light brushed over the small amount of blush accentuating Quinn's cheek bones. "You look so beautiful," she breathed. The blush on Quinn's face intensified and Rachel chuckled quietly as Quinn scowled at her laughter. Her eyes roamed all over a pretty smile, a small nose, defined cheek bones, up to sculpted eyebrows, down to impossibly long eyelashes and deep into hazel eyes. "The eyeliner, it really brings out the color of your eyes."

A dark blonde eyebrow quirked up as she grabbed Rachel's hand. She slowly pulled it away from her face as her eyes strayed to the door behind Rachel, then back into dark brown eyes. "You've noticed the color of my eyes?"

"I notice everything about you," Rachel replied earnestly.

Quinn's head dipped down as she balled her lips up to fight back a bashful smile.

"I never learned how to apply eyeliner properly," Rachel continued after a moment. "I have no way of complimenting your technique, but you-you look really good."

"Really good, huh?" Quinn murmured with a playful smile. Her head tilted in thought for a moment, then she reached into her bag and pulled out a long black pencil. "Want me to show you?"

Rachel looked down to the eyeliner, then up to Quinn with wide eyes. "Yes, please."

Quinn stepped closer and pulled the cap off. She scooted her bag to rest more on the back of her hip as she stood close to Rachel. A warm hand cupped Rachel's cheek and her eyes fluttered closed on instinct. "You're going to have to open your eyes for this to work," Quinn murmured, warm puffs of minty breath fanning out along Rachel's face. Reluctantly her eyes opened, widening as they flicked all over Quinn's face.

She inhaled deeply as Quinn shifted just that much closer until they were practically on top of each other.

"Hmm," Quinn purred as her thumb tugged just below Rachel's eye.

"Hmm, what?" Rachel whispered, looking skyward in fear as the pencil came closer to her eye.

Quinn tugged on her lower lip briefly. "You have…really pretty eyes."

She smiled, heart warming over immensely at such a simple comment. "Really?"

The tip of the pencil ran gingerly along the edge of her eye, but she was so caught up in Quinn's response that she couldn't even be bothered.

"They're really brown. And not like, a boring brown," Quinn elaborated. "A brown like, hmm, maybe chestnuts?"

"I like that," Rachel giggled. "Glad they're not boring."

Quinn switched to her other eye. She was just as gentle the second time as she was the first and by the time she pulled away, Rachel hadn't even noticed they were done. She blinked her slightly watery eyes. "How do I look?"

Quinn's hand had dropped from Rachel's cheek to rest idly on her hip as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "You look great."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." She slipped her eyeliner into her bag. Then she lingered for a moment, and Rachel wasn't sure if they were supposed to kiss or if they were deciding not to do that in the open since getting caught was always a danger.

"Anyway, I guess I should go," Quinn said. "I'll see you later. At the game."

Rachel waved after her with a fond smile. "Bye, Quinn."

* * *

><p>Football game snacks apparently didn't include anything vegan friendly. Rachel had asked for a variety of snacks, even broke down and finally asked for something as simple and universal as a salad.<p>

And she was currently eating nothing while freezing in forty degree weather, sitting on the bleachers with Kurt who was eating a well-dressed hotdog. "Oh, lighten up," Kurt muttered around a mouthful of food. "Quinn'll be up soon."

"I hope so," Rachel mumbled as she rubbed her hands together for warmth. Currently the other team was advancing down the field. Rachel wasn't really sure what was going on, but the people around her booed every time the ball was being tossed around. "What's happening?" she hissed.

"I don't know. I think the other team is about to score, though."

"Oh, no."

The other team did in fact score. Suddenly the crowd seemed to hop up as one, loudly mocking the other team while simultaneously cheering on their own. Kurt licked his fingers as he put his hotdog down. "Come on. My dad does this all the time," he said as he tugged on Rachel's arm. "Just yell stuff. Come on, McKinley, grow a pair!" Kurt yelled loudly, voice being lost in the crowd. He gestured for Rachel to join in. "My grandmother can catch more passes than that receiver you've got out there!"

Rachel watched him bemusedly. He seemed to be having fun, and surely jumping up and down while yelling and screaming would generate more heat than just standing in place. "Come on, McKinley, make some touchdowns!" she yelled loudly, hands in shaking fists. "You don't want to lose to the other team do you? Kick some ass!"

Halftime was called as soon as McKinley had a first down, as the man beside Rachel had kindly informed her. She heard a group of girls yelling and her stomach flip-flopped automatically. She just _knew_.

The Cheerios came bouncing onto the field, all short skirts and lean arms. They assembled on the sidelines, right in front of Rachel. Quinn was front and center with a wide grin on her face as she stared into the crowd with a hand on her hips.

"What do we want?" Quinn yelled loudly.

"A win!" the crowd immediately shouted back. Rachel was startled by the abrupt answering as Quinn yelled again.

"What do we want?"

"A win," Rachel mumbled with a small smile. Watching Quinn in her element, commanding an entire crowd to answer her was incredible.

"What do we want?"

"A win!" Rachel shouted.

The cheerleaders behind Quinn all began yelling and shaking their pompoms after that as they all grouped together. An upbeat song began to play from seemingly out of nowhere and Rachel could feel her face warm as all the cheerleaders began to gyrate right in front of her. Her jaw dropped to the floor. Was this what she had been missing by not attending football games all this time? There was so much more to the sport than sweaty boys running up and down a field.

There was Quinn rolling her hips to the beat of the music.

Quinn turning around and shaking her practically bare ass for Rachel to see.

Quinn being hoisted into the air like the queen she was by a small group of girls.

Quinn being tossed into the air—wait, what?

Quinn was currently being tossed carelessly into the air and Rachel's heart stuttered as smooth, pale legs parted easily into a sky split before she fell back down into the cheerleaders waiting to catch her below. _Well_. Quinn's MySpace account name had certainly taken on a much more visual meaning for Rachel.

She blinked rapidly as she stared down at the wave Quinn gave the crowd.

Did she just see what she think she saw? Quinn's legs could spread so far apa—_why_ was this so sexy?

"You okay?" Kurt asked from beside her.

"I think I just died," Rachel choked out.

Kurt chuckled. "What a way to go."

* * *

><p>They were coming off what the person beside Rachel in the stands had told her was a surprising victory. The McKinley football players were currently tackling each other, high fiving each other, and, to Kurt's interest, slapping each other on the butt in good sportsmanship.<p>

"If I was out there, I would have so slapped Finn on the butt," Kurt leaned over to silently tell her.

Rachel cringed at the thought, sliding her eyes off the field and to the sidelines a few feet away where Quinn and the rest of the Cheerios were engaging the crowd in an attempt to rouse the already excited bunch. They all rose to their feet, clapping and chanting along, but Rachel's eyes remained on the large grin on Quinn's face, even teeth and red lips. Then, with a flick of her wrist, Quinn waved to the crowd then bent at the waist to retrieve her pompoms before running off the field with her posse of pretty girl cheerleaders following behind.

Rachel nearly whimpered as Quinn ran off the field. It had literally been seconds and she was missing her already. Watching Quinn run, jump, twist, turn, and roll her hips all through halftime and occasionally during timeouts had her feeling antsy and amorous and all she wanted to do was _see_ her.

Before she even knew what she was doing, she was turning to Kurt and jostling his shoulder. "I'll be right back."

Kurt looked at her strangely. "Where are you going?"

"To the girls' locker room."

No further explanation was needed and Kurt simply waved her off as Rachel tried her best to scale down the bleachers quickly without falling and breaking her talent. She made a beeline for the school, opening the door and slipping inside. The hallways were brightly lit, almost as if to celebrate the victory of the night. She continued down the empty hallway before slipping inside the door to the girls' locker room. There was a lot of loud, animated chattering from deep inside the room and Rachel plastered herself against the wall, hidden from the Cheerios as they continued to talk. All she wanted to do was see Quinn. But unfortunately, the girls seemed to be eager to talk instead of shower after the game. She was about to walk out before a high pitched, nearly shrill voice caught her attention.

"So, Quinn are you gonna totally scoop Puck or what? He did make the winning touchdown, after all."

She heard nothing for a long moment as the room fell silent. Every girl on the other side must have been waiting for Quinn to speak and Rachel wondered just how Quinn managed to capture an audiences' attention so efficiently without even having to do anything.

"No," another voice, low and edgy with annoyance that Rachel automatically recognized as Quinn, spoke up. Her heart immediately swelled with pride at that single statement.

"Oh, so you wouldn't mind if I went in on that, then?" the same girl asked and Rachel rolled her eyes. Her voice was starting to sound familiar...

"I don't really _care_, Megan," Quinn replied tightly. _That_ was the same girl from the bathroom earlier.

"Not like she can even _get_ Puck anyway," another voice said. It was Santana, Rachel noted after a moment of wondering, and she couldn't help but mentally chastise her new friend as the rest of the room uproared with cruel laughter.

"Alright, alright," Quinn said over the crowd of laughing girls. "Get in the showers, please. I'd like to get home before midnight, if at all possible."

There were some groans of protest, but Rachel could hear movement on the floor shift to the far right towards the showers anyway. Silence prevailed after that and Rachel waited, eyes clenched shut as she attempted to somehow stretch her sense of hearing towards the other room. When she didn't hear anything, she pushed off the wall and slowly walked around it into the main part of the locker room. Steam slowly began making its way towards her and she saw it as good of a time as any to walk around the corner.

It was like the first time she saw Quinn in the locker room all over again. Her Cheerios top was removed and she stood there in a black sports bra, her skirt and a pair of sneakers that squeaked against the mild condensation on the floor as she walked. She folded her top as meticulously as she did her skirt that day over a month ago when Rachel had first seen Quinn in such a state of undress. She hazarded a step closer, drawn to milky white skin as she cleared her throat purposefully.

Quinn swiveled around quickly, covering herself with wide eyes. Rachel recoiled before throwing her hands up, immediately throwing herself into a rambling fit. "I—sorry! I didn't mean to scare you; I probably shouldn't have come in. I'm really sor—"

"Sometimes after games the boys get a little too excited and come in here to scare us," Quinn cut in after she was able to breathe air back into her lungs. "Just thought you were one of them, sorry."

Rachel nodded hurriedly. She took a step closer until she was in front of Quinn, gesturing vaguely in her direction as she said, "You were amazing out there. I've never seen someone do such death defying stunts."

Quinn smiled a little. "You really liked it?"

"Yes, very. Though, I have to admit, I was a little afraid for you at times because they kept throwing you into the air like a ragdoll."

Quinn laughed. "That's what they're supposed to do. But I've done those stunts enough times; my body is used to it."

All she had to do was say _body_ and Rachel's eyes acted with their own minds as they dipped briefly to admire the gentle swell of Quinn's breasts and the slight definition in her abs. Her tongue absentmindedly ran over her lower lip as her eyes dragged back up to Quinn's. There was so much bare skin and the palms of her hands felt hot; her fingers twitched at her sides before she wringed her hands together in front of her. "W-why aren't you in the shower?" she asked.

Quinn watched her acutely, voice dipping into a distracted murmur. "I'm always the last to shower because I have to make sure all the girls get in first. They like to horse play, slap each other with towels, or stand around and gossip for who knows how long." She looked at Rachel strangely, then took a step forward. "What are you thinking?"

Rachel looked up at her helplessly. It was taking less and less these days to turn her on and it had been a slow burn for the past hour the second Quinn jogged onto the field and her skirt flipped up to show a bright red pair of spanks. "Kissing you," she whispered with a tight swallow.

Quinn's nostrils flared at the bold declaration. She didn't move a muscle for a few seconds, mouth slightly agape and Rachel stared longingly at pink lips. Quinn quickly casted a glance behind her towards the girlish giggles that floated from the steam of the showers. Her chest heaved once, then she turned back to Rachel, grabbed her hand, and dragged her along. "We have to be quick," she threw over her shoulder.

"Quick about what?" Rachel asked cluelessly as Quinn dragged her towards where she had been hiding when she first walked into the locker room. Quinn pulled Rachel forward, then pressed a hand against her sternum as she walked her backwards. "Not a word," Quinn whispered threateningly as she stepped away to lock the locker room door.

Then she was back against Rachel, pressing into her everywhere she could. Finally, Rachel was able to catch on. She reached forward to cup Quinn's cheeks softly in her hand. Her body slid deliciously against Quinn's as she rose to the tips of her toes and her eyes slid shut in pleasure at the friction it created as she pressed their lips together. If Rachel was expecting soft, she wasn't going to get it. Slender hands curled around her hips and roughly pulled her into Quinn's body. Quinn covered her mouth fully, plying Rachel's lips apart and practically making love to her bottom lip. The hands on Rachel's hips caressed up to her waist and held her there firmly.

Rachel moaned quietly as Quinn sucked on her lower lip before nibbling softly. It was such a dizzying feeling, the combination of kissing Quinn and the heat and fog from the shower creeping over into their corner of the locker room. Quinn wouldn't even let her breathe. Rachel was reduced to panting out hot puffs of air on Quinn's upper lip because whenever she tried to pull away for a breath, Quinn's lips would follow. The level of need in the near desperate way Quinn grabbed at her waist tightened her stomach and caused warmth to fan out along her body.

She couldn't even concentrate on kissing Quinn because those fingers were creating ticklish feelings on her ribcage in their uncertainty of whether to proceed or not. Her back arched in some form of invitation Rachel's brain couldn't catch up with as she wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck and pulled her closer. She became completely unhinged as they pressed tightly together everywhere. Her tongue snaked out to flick along Quinn's upper lip, begging for more. With a breathy whimper, Quinn's lips parted and Rachel slipped inside with a long moan. She explored Quinn's mouth thoroughly, caressing inside of her mouth with broad strokes of her tongue.

Her whole body twitched when Quinn raked her fingernails down her torso to the hem of her sweater vest. Quinn quickly flipped up her sweater and tugged impatiently at the shirt neatly tucked into her skirt. She pulled back from the kiss, nuzzling Rachel's cheek. "Can I touch you here?" Quinn whispered against the side of her mouth as warm palms splayed out over Rachel's twitching abdomen.

"Yes," Rachel hissed with a quick nod as her eyes rolled back. Her body surged forward, offering whatever Quinn wanted as long fingers familiarized themselves with her body.

Quinn swirled a finger above her belly button softly, staring down at where Rachel's shirt and sweater vest bunched up just below her bra. "You're so…" She swallowed thickly and buried face into Rachel's neck to kiss her thrumming pulse point.

"So what?" Rachel rasped. A hand tickled up her ribcage and she moaned, suddenly feeling antsy as the fabric of her bra began to feel constricting, roughly rubbing against surprisingly stiff nipples.

"Soft," Quinn moaned, biting her neck. Her hands extended as far as they could, mapping out as much of Rachel's body as she could possibly touch. She wrapped her arms around Rachel's back and tugged her closer.

Rachel groaned quietly, barely registering Quinn's whimper as their bare stomachs touched for the first time. She didn't even _know_ if this was supposed to be as erotic as it felt. All she knew was that she felt so hot and fulfilled, but not sated. It didn't even make _sense_, but her hands dropped to the small of Quinn's back and tugged her closer even when there was no way they could possibly be closer.

She caressed naked, pale skin reverently, pressing her fingertips into Quinn's lower back and gliding her palms over soft skin. There was nothing—she had never felt _anything_ quite like this before, so much soft, warm skin that yielded to her touch. Strong yet delicate muscles bunched and twisted just below the surface as her hands mapped out every inch of skin they were starved to find.

She peppered frenzied kisses along Quinn's cheek and down her jaw until Quinn turned sharply and captured her lips in a rough kiss. Rachel curled her fingers to dig into Quinn's lower back in an effort to hold on. Then Quinn arched into her, a rumbling moan vibrating against her lips and she just about _died._ Her hands reached up to bury in Quinn's hair in an attempt to keep her in place. She tugged on the hair tie keeping blonde hair in place, and it spilled down Quinn's back in golden waves. Rachel gripped her hair tightly as she tilted her head, rising even higher on her tippy toes with a whine as Quinn's teeth sunk into her lower lip.

The soft pad of footsteps walking into the main locker room didn't register to her, but it registered to Quinn who jerked back abruptly and shushed her with a sharp look when Rachel's eyes widened in confusion.

She held her panting breaths to hear faint humming and tensed immediately, eyes widening even further as she looked at Quinn for what to do.

Quinn quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her to the door. She unlocked it with ease despite the fact that her fingers trembled and pried it open to gently shove Rachel out.

Rachel spun back around in outrage to stare up at Quinn. Not even a goodbye kiss? A hug, a handshake, hell _words_ would do right now.

"I'm sorry," Quinn whispered. "But they can't know."

"I know that," Rachel hissed back just as quietly. She tugged harshly at her rumpled shirt and vest with a pout. "You could have at least said goodbye."

"I—" Quinn hesitated, looking at Rachel in a mix of irritation and confusion. "Goodbye?"

"It's polite to say goodbye," Rachel elaborated.

"_I_ know that," Quinn grumbled with an eyeroll. She ran her fingers through her hair in exasperation, then jerked in confusion when she realized it wasn't in a ponytail anymore.

Rachel flushed scarlet, ducking her head. "Sorry."

Quinn sighed quietly. "I have to go. I was supposed to be in the shower fifteen minutes ago."

She nodded dejectedly, unable to shake the feeling of being brushed off after they shared something that was so intimate to her. "Okay," exhaled. "Well, umm—"

"I'll call you tonight," Quinn cut in softly. She took a step closer, ducking down until she was in Rachel's line of sight. "Okay?"

Rachel huffed out an annoyed breath as she folded her arms tightly across her chest. She got that neither of them wanted anyone to know about what they were doing…whatever it was they were doing. But that didn't mean that…

"I'm not some-some _easy_ _girl_, Quinn," she grumbled, barely resisting the urge to stomp her foot.

Quinn frowned. "I didn't say you—"

"Then stop—" she sighed, ran a hand through her hair and shifted her weight to her right foot. She wasn't sure what point she was trying to make here, but she was suddenly becoming very upset. "Just don't throw me out like that," she finished quietly.

The door shut behind Quinn as she stepped further into the hallway. She looked around them briefly before walked closer to Rachel. "What's the matter with you?"

"We were in there kissing and having a good time, then you practically threw me out when someone was coming like I'm some whore," Rachel nearly whined as she stared up at Quinn.

"That's not what I meant," Quinn said around a frown as she stared down at Rachel. "I tried to get you out of there before we got caught."

"Then at least acknowledge what we were doing _right_ before you kicked me out and kiss me, or hug me and tell me goodbye."

Quinn's eyebrows drew together as her jaw dropped in halfhearted protest. She clamped it shut, looking wholly put out as she walked closer to Rachel. "We need to be quick," she muttered.

Rachel's shoulders drooped as most of her ire left her. She smiled lovingly, and wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist. She felt arms encircle her shoulder and let out a soft sigh. "Promise to call me tonight?" she whispered, then placed a kiss along Quinn's jaw.

"I promise." Quinn pulled back after a few seconds. She blushed and gave a small wave. "Thanks for coming tonight."

"It was my pleasure," Rachel assured with a nod. "And don't forget," she hissed as Quinn walked back into the locker room.

"I won't, I won't," Quinn promised. "I'll talk to you a little later."

The door shut and Rachel stood there for a few seconds more, gathering the strength to leave and the patience to wait for Quinn a little while longer.


	18. Chapter 18

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

**A/N:** I've had a couple of reviews asking general questions and I'll try to answer them now to the best of my ability.

To **Amelie**-anon from last chapter: thank you for reviewing! It's always a pleasure reading about converting someone into a Faberry shipper. ;) As for 'Quinn's struggle/regression', I doubt I'll go in depth with that in this story, simply because I want this fic to be fluffy with some mild teenage angst, but nothing too heavy. Quinn struggles with her sexuality a little in here, but since this fic isn't from her POV, her whole side of the story won't really be told. And I did that to cut down on the angst, honestly, and to add some mystery to her character.

To the anon who asked if there was going to be any sex in this story: I highly, highly doubt that there will be. The characterization of them in this story feels very innocent to me, so I doubt I'll go that far with them. However, I'm not completely ruling the option out.

And lastly, hello to **Novak Fan**, **Fran**, **Achele**, and** Amy**! You guys review consistently but I never have the chance to thank you since you're anon, so I'm thanking you now! :)

Thank you everyone for your reviews, and feel free to ask questions. Next time I'll try to condense my answers, haha. :)

* * *

><p>The phone conversation yesterday didn't end well. It didn't end <em>horribly<em>, but it didn't end in a way that gave Rachel hope that she and Quinn would ever be more than two girls who occasionally sucked face and said hi in the hallways.

And that may have been understating their relationship into near nonexistence, but at this point Rachel felt that she had yet to _mean_ something to Quinn. She hadn't crossed that distinction from barely there friend to girlfriend.

She turned away from her closet to glance at the occupant on her bed. "Finn?"

He jerked upwards as if caught and sent an array of body lotions on her dresser tumbling over. They landed in a pile on her carpeted floors and Rachel sighed. "Sorry," Finn mumbled as he bent down to pick them up. "You were saying?"

She waited until Finn picked them all up and was staring at her, red faced with exertion.

"Do you think I'm someone worthy of being in a relationship with?"

He shot her an uncharacteristically dry look which Rachel reasoned she deserved. "Right…" she muttered, mentally face palming.

"_We_ were together," he grumbled.

"I know," she said softly.

He walked over to Rachel's bed and plopped down. "'Til you decided to be gay."

"_Hey_!" Rachel protested. "I didn't _choose_—we've talked about this!"

"Well…you chose Quinn over me," he reasoned with faux indignity. "So, you chose!"

His lips split apart into a playful grin and Rachel stomped her foot in outrage. "Don't say things like that, Finn!" she exclaimed. She leaned back against her closet door. "You make me feel guilty."

He shrugged halfheartedly. "You can't help your feelings, I guess. I should know…considering I left Quinn for you."

"And I left you for her," Rachel murmured disbelievingly. This gave a whole new meaning to the concept of a love triangle. Was high school always this complicated? Was Quinn going to loop back around to wanting Finn?

No.

She couldn't.

Quinn was the one to put a 'no kissing anyone else' stipulation on their non-relationship and Rachel made sure that that demand was for both parties. She walked over to Finn with a weary sigh and sat down beside him. Her legs mashed together as she tugged on the hem of her skirt in apprehension. "I don't-I don't think Quinn likes me very much," she mumbled.

Finn turned to gawk at her in disbelief. "Why do you say that? You guys have been macking on each other for over a month."

"Yes, and that's _all_ we've been doing," Rachel retorted. "We've just been…kissing for almost two months. And granted, Quinn is an amazing kisser, absolutely skillful. But I want more," she said quietly.

"What, like, sex?" Finn asked.

"_No_," Rachel stressed. "More, you know, _feelings_. I want her to like _me_, not just like _kissing_ me."

He scratched a dry patch of skin on his cheek. "That's weird," was all he said.

"Why is that weird?" Rachel asked suspiciously.

"'Cause that's completely the opposite of what me and…basically _every_ dude wants."

Her head tilted curiously in a way that made her surroundings as off kilter as she felt. "What _do_ you want?"

"Kissing, touching, sex." He shrugged. "The usual."

"_Sex_ is _not_ the usual for you, Finn Hudson."

"Yeah, so…whatever," he brushed off. "Point is, guys just want contact. Physical contact, emotions are optional."

It made sense, in a weird way, that after dealing with boys for what Rachel assumed was Quinn's short lived romantic life, now that she was dealing with a girl, she would act the same way she acted with a boy.

"Did you and Quinn ever talk about your feelings at all?" she wondered aloud.

He nodded and shrugged all at once. "Yeah, sure, sometimes. Like, that one time when she said, 'Finn, it would make me feel really good if you scored the winning touchdown in our first game.'"

Rachel stared up at him sadly. "Finn, honey, no. That's not how you talk about emotions. Those aren't even _emotions_ exactly."

"Doesn't matter," he said. "I still got to touch her boob for like, a second after the game."

The sympathetic expression on her face completely wiped away like someone had dragged a windshield wiper down her face. "Let's talk about something else," she said resolutely.

He smiled lopsidedly. "My bad." She looked at her strangely for a second before he decided to just go for it and ask his question. "So, you never got to touch her boo—"

"Finn!" Rachel yelled. "You can't ask that!"

He winced. "Sorry, sorry."

Rachel huffed out a calming breath as her spine straightened. She smoothed her hands down her skirt as she stared at the deep purple color. "However, to answer your question, I have not."

"They're awesome," Finn said surely. "Really small, though. But still great."

"_Anyway_," Rachel said pointedly, "help me with my situation, please."

"I don't know," he told her. "So, what—you guys kiss, and you like it, but you want her to be madly in love with you, or something?"

"I—well, yeah," Rachel said, voice pitched precariously higher for some reason. "I just want her to like me for who I am and not for…kissing me, I guess." Finn still wasn't getting it if the whole pinched expression he had going on was any indication. "Like this," Rachel prompted, "I saw her in the bathroom on Friday and she was putting on make-up. We got to talking, and I told her that I didn't know how to apply eyeliner. See?" she said as if it were obvious. "In that moment Quinn _learned_ something new about me. Then she also learned that my eyes are these beautiful chestnut orbs of adorableness."

"Huh, I always thought they were like Hershey's Kisses."

"Yeah, well—I—that's not really romantic," she replied distractedly. "But what Quinn said _was_ romantic. She said my eyes were _pretty_, Finn. Do you understand this?"

He nodded. "Oh, okay, so you want compliments."

"I want her to notice these things about me when we talk." She made a face. "I want us to _talk_, period."

Finn rubbed a hand along the side of his face. "Girls talk too much," he muttered.

* * *

><p>It was Monday; Rachel hadn't spoken to Quinn since Friday. Quinn hadn't called her and Rachel resisted every urge to break down and call Quinn. She couldn't help but wonder if Quinn had moved on. A girl like Quinn Fabray didn't seem like the type to fixate on a person for long if that person didn't yield the results she wanted.<p>

But Quinn felt things for her; those were her words. And that _something_ that she felt had Rachel wanting to know what it was, what it had the potential to be. But having Quinn write her off as some floozy because what they shared was completely undefined wasn't good for her self-esteem and would probably land her in therapy.

Or back in Ms. Pillsbury's office.

Which, unsurprisingly, was where she was.

She watched the dedicated, meticulous manner in which Emma gathered a stack of papers onto the side of her desk, then eyeballed it with squinted eyes, shifting the papers around until they were all evenly on top of each other. When it seemed like this was going to be an all-day event, Rachel deliberately, yet quietly cleared her throat.

Emma looked up, wide eyed and mildly embarrassed by her own OCD. "Sorry, Rachel, sometimes those darn papers won't stack correctly."

Rachel nodded in understanding. "Sometimes I'll sing a note over and over again until I'm hoarse because it just doesn't sound right."

"Oh, I see," Ms. Pillsbury murmured. She turned behind her and grabbed a pamphlet. "Maybe this can help."

Rachel took it, brow furrowing as she read the title of it: _So You're More of a Britney Than a Christina? A Self-Help Guide to Admitting Your Voice Might Not be the Best._

She scowled gravely down at the pamphlet and crumbled it in her hand. "That's not why I'm here, Ms. Pillsbury," she gritted out through a false smile. Nothing got her more riled up than someone questioning her capabilities as a singer.

"Oh, sorry!" Emma apologized. "It's just—we were comparing our faults, I thought, and—"

"I'm here about…dating issues," Rachel mumbled, self-consciously rubbing at her arm. "I still don't know if the person I like likes me back the way that I want them to."

"Uh-huh," Ms. Pillsbury murmured thoughtfully. She cleared her throat and braced her hands on the edge of the desk. "Have you ever thought about asking him how he feels?"

Rachel bowed her head. "I tried to ask before and they said they feel…_things_ for me, but didn't elaborate further. And that was weeks ago."

"Mhm, well maybe—"

"I mean, all we do is kiss. Which is _great_, by the way, Ms. Pillsbury. Don't get me wrong. But after one particular incident that occurred recently between us, I can't help but feel I mean nothing to…this person. Or at least, I don't mean as much as I want to mean to them."

Ms. Pillsbury nodded her understanding. "Rachel…have you ever heard of the expression, 'why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?'"

Rachel shook her head at the odd expression.

"I figured," Emma mumbled to herself. "What this means in relation to you," she continued, speaking louder, "is why would the person you want to invest all of these feelings into you do that if you're already giving up the goods?"

"I—" she fumbled over some form of excuse, but came up empty. "We don't have sex."

"Kissing counts as goods, too. Rachel, I told you weeks ago when you first came in to protect your heart. You can't do that if you're all in and the person you want isn't even matching half of what you're putting out."

She nodded, feeling chastised under Emma's hawk like eyes, yet soothed by the gentle lull of her voice all at once. "So, do I just not kiss them anymore?" she asked, looking away and over at the array of pamphlets on the small table in the corner of Emma's office.

"You can," Emma allowed. "The person you like seems to relay his own feelings through physical contact. What is he, some big, macho brute who doesn't like to discuss his feelings?"

Rachel smiled wryly. "Something like that."

"At any rate, I think you should pull back some, Rachel." Emma smiled at her. "You remind me of myself. You get a little crush, then suddenly you're all in, while the other person is stuck behind dragging their feet."

"That's exactly how I feel," she lamented.

"Give it time. He'll come around."

Rachel nodded with a tired sigh, deciding that reeling it in may be the next tactic to use because so far pouring her heart all over Quinn wasn't having the effect she was hoping it would. She stood up from the seat, smoothing down the back of her skirt. "Thank you, Ms. Pillsbury," she said with a small smile. "I'll take your advice."

"No problem, Rachel. Go get him!"

A part of her wanted to turn around and shout the words '_I'm gay!'_ at Emma very loudly. Luckily that part of her was pretty small and very much a coward, so she ended up opening the door and walking out of the office.

The hallway was infested with people trying to get to class on time and she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders as much as she could and walked down the hallway. Hopefully no one was throwing slushies around today.

She quickly made it to her locker and spun her combination in to deposit her books.

"Rachel?"

She jumped and covered a hand over her heart, completely startled as she turned around to the source of the voice. Her shoulders promptly sagged in relief. "Molly, you scared me!"

The edges of her blue eyes crinkled in amusement the way Quinn's always did as Molly giggled. "Sorry! I just wanted to give you this." She hauled up a giant book from her side which Rachel recognized immediately was hers.

"Yes, thank you!" Rachel grabbed it quickly and stuffed it into her locker. "I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached to my body sometimes. Where was it?"

Molly waved her concern. "No place odd, don't worry. You just left it on your desk Friday because you said you needed to get ready for the—"

"The football game," Rachel murmured with a small smile, recalling the overwhelming excitement she felt just days ago. She sighed. "Anyway, I—thank you." She took a step forward and wrapped Molly in a warm hug. She had never thought their friendship would have survived the trauma of Molly nearly getting slushied, but it seemed as though things were back on track.

"No problem," Molly chirped when Rachel pulled back. "I gotta go, though. Jason's waiting for me. Bye, Rachel."

Rachel waved goodbye with a small smile before returning to her locker. From her peripheral, she saw someone walking towards her and looked up just as Quinn stopped in front of her. Quinn's gaze flicked from Rachel to a little farther down the hallway, then back to Rachel again. "You're still friends with her?" she asked quietly, eyebrows dipping in some form of confusion as if she couldn't believe what she had just seen.

"I am," Rachel informed just as quietly. "Luckily my friendship with her wasn't completely destroyed when you ordered a slushie attack on her."

Quinn looked completely unrepentant as she stared down at Rachel. "You hug her now?"

Was this twenty-one questions?

Rachel tried to instill Ms. Pillsbury's latest advice and draw back from Quinn at least a little, but the upset, nearly lost expression on Quinn's face snagged her heart in the worst way possible. "I just hugged her, yes," she murmured, trying to keep warmth in her voice as she addressed Quinn, the girl she loved no matter how less ideal their current arrangement was becoming.

A quick breath swooshed out of Quinn at the quiet declaration. Her hands that were anchored proudly on her hips slipped away until balled fists rested at her side. She took a step closer, ponytail bouncing around in momentum as her head turned side to side to survey their surroundings. "Have you kissed her?" she asked lowly when she turned back to Rachel.

Rachel's jaw dropped at the question. _Where_ was all of this coming from? "_No_!" she hissed quietly. Quinn's lips remained tightly pressed together in some conspiracy of keeping whatever was going on in her head private. Rachel floundered where she stood, not really sure how to operate. "Look, we both agreed that neither of us were allowed to kiss anyone else, and I haven't. H-have you?"

"No," Quinn mumbled after a moment much to Rachel's relief.

"I would hug you, too, you know," Rachel told her with a small, helpless shrug. "If you'd let me."

"I never said you couldn't," Quinn fired back. "Just…not in school and stuff."

Rachel licked her lips as she mulled over a loophole for that statement. "Can't friends hug?"

"I don't hug anyone," Quinn said flatly. "Besides, it would look suspicious." She looked around them. "Just like this conversation, probably."

She frowned. "Friends can't talk in the hallway?"

"About gossip or other trivial things, yes." Sharp hazel eyes focused intently on her again in a way that made Rachel feel like she was being pinned to a hard surface. "But talking about the logistics of…this—"

"This that doesn't have a name," Rachel interjected softly. She cleared her throat, hoping Miss Pillsbury's advice wasn't steering her wrongly as she asked in as much of a detached, clinical voice as she could, "Are we going to name _this_ soon?"

Quinn looked completely hesitant and put off by the idea. Her feet shifted on the floor as she cocked her hip out with a wary sigh. "Did you want to?"

Rachel's heart _leapt_ at the chance. "Yes, of course I do."

"Then can you give me time?" Quinn asked.

"I've given you time," Rachel nearly whined. "Seriously, Quinn, we need to talk about this."

The warning bell for class rang and Quinn quickly stepped away. "Not right now."

"When?" Rachel asked.

"Soon. I—later," Quinn stammered over her shoulder as she quickly walked away.

* * *

><p>Rachel cursed the day she ever fell in love with Quinn.<p>

It was taxing and tedious to have to dance around this committed non-relationship she quickly found herself slipping into. If they were going to do all of this, Rachel found no reason why Quinn couldn't just bite the bullet and be her girlfriend already. It was the same thing, only Quinn would then hopefully treat her with a little more respect than what Rachel was getting now.

She sighed listlessly as she nearly stomped into the choir room for glee club. She sat in her usual seat just off center, placing her books neatly on the floor.

"Hey, girl," Kurt greeted breathlessly as he walked into the room.

"Hey, Kurt."

He stopped short on the first riser and pivoted around to stare at the back of Rachel's head. "That greeting wasn't too happy."

"Well, I'm not feeling too happy right now," Rachel grumbled.

He hopped from the riser and slid into the seat beside Rachel, crossing his legs primly. "Tell Kurt what's wrong."

"Well, Quinn and I have—"

"Rachel," Finn said breathlessly as he stumbled into the room. Was everyone running a marathon before glee club or something? He crashed into the other chair beside her, panting heavily.

Rachel spun around quickly to face him. "Finn, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? Quinn's been on my ass all day; that's what's wrong. And not just, you know, Quinn, but _scary_ Quinn." He shot accusatory eyes to Rachel. "You should have told me she knew that I knew."

She winced, mumbling, "Sorry," as she rubbed his arm in sympathy for whatever the hell he just went through. "What happened?"

"Quinn was harassing me!"

"What did she say?" Rachel asked, more curious than worried.

He sat up in his seat to face Rachel. "She was all like, 'I know you know about me and Rachel, Finn,'" he said in that embarrassing way he normally did when he tried to mimic Quinn, enunciating syllables and going squinty eyed in what Rachel was sure Finn thought was a well-practiced glare.

Rachel stared at him blankly. "So, was that all she said?"

"_No_. Then she was like, 'What the hell is wrong with Rachel? She hasn't called me all weekend and now she's acting all weird. Does she like that Molly person?'—by the way, who's Molly?"

"A friend," Rachel rushed out.

Finn grinned at her. "A special friend?"

Kurt gasped. "Rachel, are you two-timing Quinn?"

"No!" she hissed. "I'm not two-timing anyone. As I said, Molly is a _friend_ and that's all. Finn, continue, please."

"Well, I told her I had no idea who Molly was. And she was all like, 'I'm prettier than her, Finn, so there's no way Rachel likes her more,' with scary eyes like I was the one cheating on her or something. And I just told her okay, and she asked me again what the hell was going on with you and I was like I don't know." He threw his hands up. "Warn me next time!"

"Sorry," Rachel apologized again. "I didn't think she'd go after you like that."

"Then you don't know Quinn," he said.

"No," Rachel mumbled. "I don't think I do."

"This is just _juicy_!" Kurt exclaimed from beside them. "Who would have known lesbians would have so much drama?"

Rachel quickly shushed him as Quinn, Brittany, and Santana stood just inside the choir room door. They seemed to be caught up in the latest school gossip as Santana's head tossed back with laughter. Brittany watched her with an amused grin as she teased a string of gum along her index finger. Quinn looked mildly amused, though bored as her eyes began to wander. She locked eyes with Rachel quickly, brow furrowed as if she was trying to solve a complicated problem. They stared at each other as if they had never seen each other before and it occurred to Rachel that they didn't understand each other, couldn't relate to each other aside from the way their bodies seemed to love being pressed together. Quinn's gaze slowly dropped away with the same puzzled look on her face before her brow smoothed over and a breezy smile pulled her lips upwards. It was a false smile, Rachel recognized immediately.

"Yo, Berry!"

Rachel's gaze shifted to Puck as he walked through the small crowd of girls, ogling them all before walking directly towards Rachel. She cleared her throat and plastered on a small smile. "Good afternoon, Noah."

Puck pulled up a chair beside her and sat on it. "You're a Jew, right? 'Cause with that nose, I feel like you are."

The smile on her face withered to a grimace. "Yes, I am Jewish. And please refrain from referring to my nose in this conversation."

Puck grinned widely. "I knew it!" He braced his hands on the chair tightly. Rachel focused her gaze behind him where Quinn was beginning to take interest in her conversation with Puck. "You totally came to me in a dream last night," Puck told her.

"That's sweet, Noah," she said, not really knowing how she was supposed to respond to this sentiment.

There was a screeching sound as his chair scooted closer to hers. "So, listen, Berry, I'm having a party this Friday after I score another winning touchdown at our game." He waggled his eyebrows and puckered his lips. "You should come."

Her jaw dropped as she stared at the smirk on his face. She was being invited to a _party._

"What the hell is this?" Quinn asked, encroaching upon their conversation with domineering hands placed squarely on her hips.

Rachel more or less had a mild panic attack, but Puck looked up at her with a mocking grin. "You had your chance, Fabray."

Quinn's eyes narrowed into a cold glower. Rachel waited with bated breath, wondering if Quinn was actually going to say anything more on the matter. She watched that beautifully defined jaw work back and forth in barely contained anger so much that her ears twitched just slightly to anyone who was paying attention.

But Quinn just deflated in a huff of exasperation as she lowly growled, "Screw you, Puckerman."

"We wouldn't be having this conversation if you had done just that," Puck called after her as Quinn walked up the risers without a backwards glance, trampling the floorboards below her in her ire.

Rachel took a calming breath, feeling miserable on Quinn's behalf all of a sudden as Puck turned back towards her. "So, you coming?" he asked as if the two minute show down that caused Rachel's heart attack didn't just happen.

* * *

><p>"He's just trying to bone you," Finn told her.<p>

"Yes, well, won't he be disappointed?" Rachel fired back as she searched through her closet for a dress. "What do our peers wear to these kinds of parties?"

"Rach, it's Monday," Finn laughed. "You have until Friday to find something to wear."

She spun around and fixed him with a severe look. "One must never be too prepared, Finn." She turned back around to rummage through her closet. She was so excited. A popular kids' party and she was invited. Noah was arguably the most popular boy in school now that he and Quinn had flirted around the idea of being a couple a little over a month ago. It skyrocketed him past Finn whose only romance once he and Quinn split up was…well, Rachel. She plucked a black and white polka-dotted dress from her closet, running her hands over the material. "Do you think Quinn will be there?" she asked quietly.

Finn nodded. "She goes to parties. She doesn't really do much, though."

Rachel smiled in memory of the night she had spent the night over Santana's and Santana had told her Quinn was at the party the night before being boring. "She's a wallflower," Rachel murmured to herself. "The prettiest wallflower."

"Maybe you can get her to dance," Finn said teasingly.

The mere suggestion made her blush in embarrassment for some reason as she turned back to her closet. She was excited about going to the party. She just hoped that she and Quinn would be on better terms by then.

"Stay strong, Rachel," she reminded herself. "Don't give a relationship ninety when the other person is only giving you ten."


	19. Chapter 19

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

**A/N:** To **Danx **from last chapter who asked if Quinn's pregnancy/Beth will be dealt with in this story, this current story is AU; Quinn and Puck never had sex and Quinn was never pregnant.

* * *

><p>Rachel growled lowly in annoyance as she burst through the house and threw her bag onto the kitchen table. She yanked out a chair and sat on it, folding her arms across her chest as she stared at the table.<p>

From the refrigerator, Hiram popped up once all the commotion was over and slowly turned around to find Rachel sulking at the table. He smiled at the sight of his daughter pouting like a five year old and walked over to her. "Wanna bite?" he asked as he sat his sandwich down on the table to pull out a chair.

Rachel casted a sideways glance to the sandwich on the table and shook her head. "I'm too upset to eat right now."

"What are you all upset about?" Hiram asked her after he settled down in his seat.

She toyed with her fingers petulantly as she glared down at the table. "Quinn is being mean to me."

"Like, a bully mean or a this-is-more-of-a-relationship-issue-than-anything-else type of mean?" he asked around a bite of his sandwich.

"The second one," she grumbled reluctantly. "Though, I hardly see how one can call what Quinn and I have a relationship. She went from flirting with me a little in school, to hardly noticing me now—"

"Because she's freaking gay!" Hiram exclaimed with a chuckle. "There's a huge difference between flirting with the same sex when you're under the illusion that you're straight and this is just a game, and realizing that you've been flirting _because_ you're gay. Trust me, Leroy would know," Hiram said with a grin as Leroy came walking down the stairs.

He stopped at the threshold of the kitchen and looked at them both suspiciously. "Are you guys gossiping about me?" he gasped.

"Not at all," Hiram assured him with a playful grin.

"Dad was just alluding that you suffered from a bout of 'gay panic' as some people may call it when you were just coming out. Is there any truth to this?"

Leroy frowned over at Hiram who frowned down at Rachel as Leroy walked further into the room. "Our daughter sure does have a big mouth."

"Hey!" Rachel protested.

"The biggest," Leroy agreed. "Though, she got it from her father," he said pointedly as he looked at Hiram.

Hiram scoffed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Can we please get to the matter at hand?" Rachel asked the both of them as they settled down around her. She turned to Leroy. "Now, daddy, is it true that you suffered gay angst when you were younger? I mean, of course you did; you told me that. But would you to care to elaborate on what dad hinted to?"

Leroy shifted uneasily in his seat, casting a glance to Hiram.

"Tell her about the first boy to ever hit on you," Hiram suggested.

"She's…a bit too young for that," he reasoned with a wince.

"Did you have sex with him, daddy?" Rachel inquired.

Leroy gawked at her. "You can't ask people that! Especially me, I'm your father!"

"The short answer to that is yes, honey," Hiram answered dryly. Rachel turned to Hiram. "Then he cried for an hour and told the poor guy not to talk to him again."

She slowly turned from Hiram to Leroy. It was like seeing her father in a new light. She had always seen her father as a very confident man who never hid who he was for anyone. But between Leroy telling her that he used to hide his sexuality and now hearing that he treated another man like Quinn was treating her…it oddly gave her hope as she looked between Leroy and Hiram. Her fathers were in love and the most functional couple and parents Rachel could ever ask for. And if someone who was as deeply in the closet as Leroy could end up sitting across the table from a man he was married to, there was hope for just about anyone.

Her brow furrowed in suspicion as she looked between the two of them. "You guys had this little spiel planned beforehand, didn't you? I know how much you like to plan life lessons for me."

Leroy stood from the table. "Ask your father. I was the one who was just violated at the dinner table."

"Your daughter is grateful for the life lesson," Hiram called out to Leroy as he walked out of the kitchen. "He'll be okay," he assured Rachel. "All I have to do is oil up before bed and—"

"Yep, I don't really need that visual, dad," Rachel told him. She interlocked her fingers and bit her lip pensively. "And I get it, okay? I know people struggle with their sexuality. Look at me, I struggled."

"You had two gay fathers and you still struggled," Hiram said softly. "Does Quinn have gay parents?"

They both already knew the answer. Rachel slumped back into her seat with a pout.

"Cut her some slack."

"I'm supposed to be strong and not give in to settling for this loose interpretation of a committed relationship," she grumbled.

"Then do that. Give her a push," Hiram said softly. "But you can still be a supportive friend to her while she's going through questioning everything about herself. Being gay isn't just something that happens, Rachel. For most people, it's an entire lifestyle change. You haven't fully experienced that because your home life is basically the same. Some kids get kicked out of their homes for being gay." He stood up and leaned down to give her a kiss on the head before walking away. "Time to oil up!"

Every profound thought on sexuality she was having was wiped completely from her head as a deep grimace twisted her face. "That was uncalled for, dad!" she yelled after him.

* * *

><p>Rachel clutched her books to her chest as she walked down the hallway. After talking to her fathers and gaining a new perspective on the different ways people could suffer through their sexuality, what she wanted more than anything was to talk to Quinn. No matter what, she wanted to at least be there for Quinn because she had gone through understanding her own feelings and sexuality pretty much alone when she didn't have to. And knowing what little of Quinn she did know, there was no chance Quinn was willing to be vulnerable to express deep concerns about her own feelings to Brittany and Santana.<p>

An arm looped around hers and she jerked in surprise to look up to find Santana walking beside her. The same was done to her other arm and Rachel turned to find Brittany grinning down at her. "Hi, Rachel."

"Hey, Berry," Santana greeted.

She did a double take between the two of them, then looked down at their points of contact in confusion. Not only were they talking to her in school, but they were _touching_ her without a care in the world as Brittany leered at the janitor who walked by with a mop and Santana blew a kiss to Matt.

"Aren't you guys going to get in trouble for talking to me?" she couldn't help but ask as they continued to walk down the hallway. They bypassed her locker, but she hardly protested because she felt-she felt _cool_ for the possibly the second time in her life. The first time she ever felt cool definitely had to be the first time she and Quinn kissed and Quinn pinned her to the mattress, all shapely hips and smooth thighs.

"We make our own rules," Santana told her. She brought a hand up to coif Rachel's hair absentmindedly as she grinned over at Brittany.

Rachel frowned thoughtfully at the statement. "But Quinn hardly ever talks to me in the hallway anymore. She acts like she can't."

"That's 'cause she's a paranoid schizo," Santana remarked dryly.

"Don't talk about her like that," Rachel told her.

"Ooh, someone's touchy," Santana taunted.

"She's like an angry Chihuahua," Brittany giggled. "It's cute."

Rachel fumed. "Now, hold on a minu—"

"Anyway, how are ya, Berry?" Santana asked with a smile.

Rachel looked between the two in an attempt to make sure this wasn't some kind of conspiracy—for what, she didn't know. "I'm alright, all things considered," she said carefully. "How about yourselves?"

They both giggled for some reason that Rachel didn't understand. Her shoulders tensed at the almost mocking quality of their lilting laughter. "What's so funny?" she asked defensively.

"Told you she wouldn't know," Santana told Brittany from over Rachel's head.

Rachel turned towards Santana. "Wouldn't know what?"

Santana just latched onto her harder and pulled her along. "Let's go, Berry."

"But I have class," she instantly protested as they made a sharp right and started walking down the hallway. Santana shoved someone aside with a grunt.

"If you want to make it through the week and go to this party you're so desperate for, you'll come with us."

The wisecrack at her didn't make her want to follow them any more than she already didn't, but apparently her life was at stake and whatever was in the library she was being dragged in to had the potential to save it.

They walked towards the back of the library and Santana booted up a computer as Brittany pulled out a chair for Rachel to sit in. "You're so good at that," Brittany told Santana.

"All in the fingers, baby," Santana commented.

"May I ask why I'm here?" Rachel asked as she adjusted around in her seat to get more comfortable.

Santana pulled up Jacob Ben Israel's webpage and motioned for Rachel to scoot closer. "This is why you're here." She clicked on a video.

"Good morning, students of McKinley," Jacob greeted in the video with painfully cracked lips that made Rachel cringe. "I have here with me the quote/unquote resident bad ass of McKinley High: Noah Puckerman."

Puck thrusted himself into the camera shot a second later and Rachel's stomach suddenly dropped for some reason. He flexed his muscles and girls around him catcalled as they continued on to class.

"Now Noah Puckerman, or 'Puck' as you like to be called—"

"Rhymes with a certain word," he said around a wad of gum he was chewing on. "A word I'm good at doing, ladies."

"Is there a point to this video?" Rachel remarked dryly as she continued to watch this mindless dribble.

"Oh, yeah," Santana commented. "It gets good. Then it gets better."

Rachel crossed her arms with a sigh as she settled back in her seat.

"Right, wonderful. So, Puck, I heard your eyes have soared downwards from the stunning Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray to glee club captain, school resident loser, and the apple of my eye, Rachel Berry."

Brittany and Santana giggled as Rachel scowled at the computer screen.

"How the hell did you manage to catch the attention of freaking Jew Fro?" Santana asked as she wiped an amused tear from her eye.

"It may have been the pantsuit," Brittany chimed in.

Rachel looked over at her in nothing but betrayal and Brittany pouted. "I didn't mean anything by it; we're friends now," she finished with a bright smile.

"You know, my fellow Jew, she came to me in a dream wearing a pure white dress and that creepy smile," Puck said as Rachel turned back to him. She frowned deeply at the adjective 'creepy' being attached to her. She wasn't _creepy_…just high strung in a way that turned people off to her most of the time. Besides, that was Puck's dream and it would stay that way because she would never smile at him like that. "She's my Jewish American Princess, and it's time to claim her as such," Puck finished.

On the screen, Puck smiled into the camera in a way that must have been alluring because the girls in the hallway went wild again. Then suddenly the camera shut off. Rachel stood abruptly, smoothing down the back of her skirt. "Well, thank you for making me late to class. However, I must be going now—"

"Sit down," Santana demanded as she grabbed Rachel's forearm and yanked.

Rachel fell back into her seat with a huff of indignation. "You cannot manhandle me, Santana!"

"_Shh!_" a women suddenly hissed and Rachel whirled around in her seat to find one of the librarians, an old, brittle woman with paper thin white hair glaring at her from above her thick rimmed glasses with a frown pronouncing her wrinkles. Rachel gawked openly at her in fear before Brittany gently cupped the sides of her face and turned her back around.

"Pay attention."

The black computer screen came to life again with busy students passing by the camera. Jacob's panting could be heard as he hurried down the hallway and the sound made Rachel's stomach hurt.

"I have the chance to catch up with the illustrious Quinn Fabray just two halls down," Jacob informed breathlessly. "Quinn! Quinn Fabray!"

Pale shoulders tensed in what Rachel could already recognize as irritation as Quinn spun around to face Jacob. Her thin eyebrows dipped in confusion as she looked all around her to acquaint herself with Jacob and what was most probably all of his equipment and a camera man. "Who the hell are you?" Quinn asked rudely once she focused on Jacob. Her eyes, clear and hazel, strayed to the camera for a few painstaking seconds that took Rachel's breath away before she turned back to Jacob.

"An adoring fan," Jacob assured as he took a step back from the threatening way Quinn could seemingly make herself grow in size just from a glower of contempt. "Now, I've recently interviewed your former boy toy, Noah Puckerman, and he now has his sights on Rachel Berry. Care to comment?"

Quinn's whole expression changed immediately. Her shoulders sagged as her eyebrows slanted. She took her bottom lip between her teeth and her eyes widened to show a flicker of emotion Rachel hadn't seen her express before. Then it was gone, and she bared those perfectly even teeth in a grimace. She looked towards the camera and took a step forward. "If Rachel _Berry_ thinks she can date Noah Puckerman then she has another thing coming," was all she said, voice low and dangerous before she spun around and walked away.

Rachel watched her retreating form get smaller as Jacob stepped into the camera. "Whooo, you know what they say—hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," he exclaimed as he fanned himself. "Looks like Miss Fabray still has the hots for one Noah Puckerman, and Rachel Berry better watch out before she gets burned. But if you do get burned, Rachel…call me," he said breathily. "I have the ointment you need."

"Gross," Rachel whispered to herself as the screen turned black once more. Awareness she didn't seem to have previously while Quinn was on the screen came back to her as she heard Santana cackling by her side. She wondered with a frown why that scary librarian hadn't told _her_ to shut up. "None of this is funny," she grumbled.

"Oh, come _on_," Santana exclaimed. "_All_ of it is funny."

"It is pretty funny," Brittany admitted airily. "Once Santana explained it to me. I had no idea what was going on at first."

"What was the point of showing me this?" Rachel asked, completely ignoring the previous two statements.

"The point," Santana began, suddenly sounding gravely serious, "is that Quinn has gone bat shit crazy over this whole Puck and Molly thing—by the way who's Molly? Your side piece, or something?"

Her head was literally pounding as she stared at the mischievous grin on Santana's face. "_No_," she said forcefully for what felt like the billionth time. "She's a friend." She watched the way Santana and Brittany looked at each other and quickly amended her last statement. "Not a friend in the way the two of you are, but a legitimate friend who I _don't_ fool around with. You know, the girl you almost slushied that day because Quinn told you to?" she said to Santana. "Her."

Santana barked out a laugh. "Oh, I remember now." She chuckled. "Geez, Berry, when you step out on someone at least take a step up. Quinn's prettier than that chick."

"I'm not stepping out on Quinn," she nearly whined, face palming. Was this misunderstanding never going to go away?

"You're not?" Brittany asked suddenly. "Then why is Quinn acting so weird?"

Santana waved the question off, grabbing Rachel by the arm and forcing her to make eye contact. "Look, Berry, I don't care what the hell or who the hell you do on your free time. The point is, I nearly had an asthma attack yesterday from all the suicides Quinn made us run in practice. And I don't even _have_ asthma. So, I decided to be generous and give you until tomorrow to fix Quinn's wagon before Cheerios practice, or I'm gonna be blaming you for whatever hellish routines I have to suffer through. And you don't want me to set my sights on you, Berry. It won't be pretty."

She gulped nervously, more at the thought of facing Quinn than at whatever threat Santana had just tossed her way. "I'll call her tonight," she assured.

Santana released her after that. "Great! Now, what do you say about some lunch?"

Brittany grinned and stood into a stretch, long limbs flying everywhere as she rubbed at her stomach. "I could use some food," she yawned. "And maybe a nap."

"You can sleep during bio," Santana said as they linked pinkies. "Come on, Berry."

"What?" Rachel asked incredulously as she stood as well. "What do you mean?"

"It's lunch time," was Santana's flippant reply.

She followed behind them eagerly as she asked, "Are you suggesting that we're going to eat together?"

"Something like that."

* * *

><p>Her fingers trembled with nerves where she white knuckle gripped her lunch tray. It had a variety of fruits and vegetables on it, an apple that shook as she followed behind Santana and Brittany who giggled about something she didn't catch. They were all walking towards the long table of aesthetically pleasing people who Rachel never in her life thought she would have the chance to sit with. She focused passed Brittany and Santana to a high blonde ponytail sitting neatly atop Quinn's head. Her posture was rigid in her seat and both of her hands were clasped together under her chin as she engaged one of the cheerleaders in conversation. Rachel was getting closer and closer and the closer she got, the harder her heart thumped against her chest in some form of protest in being here.<p>

As soon as they bypassed a few people and walked closer, Quinn's head shot up. Her eyes quickly flicked from Santana to Brittany before landing squarely in the middle on Rachel. A look of mild panic crossed Quinn's face before embitterment pulled her face taut.

"Mind if I sit down?" Santana asked rhetorically as she took a seat. She casted a glance in Quinn's direction, muttering, "Berry wants to talk to you."

Rachel anxiously dragged her eyes over to the increasingly aggravated expression on Quinn's face as she stared at Santana.

Quinn cleared her throat and shifted in her chair. No one did anything for a long time. All of the girls' focus at the table shifted from Quinn to Rachel and back again as Quinn glared holes through Santana who ignored her and continued to eat and talk to Brittany.

After what felt like an eternity, Quinn looked from Santana to Rachel as she stood from her seat. "Where do you want to talk?"

Rachel stared wide eyed up at her. "Umm, well, I—"

"I heard no one's outside to get annoyed at the amount of glee shit you guys have to discuss," Santana replied dryly. She leaned over to Brittany to whisper, "Rookies."

A small smile fought its way onto Rachel's face at the notion of Santana actually _helping_ her. It was in a way that was mostly self-serving considering Santana wanted to get Quinn out of her hair, but it was still nice to have someone in her corner. "Outside, perhaps?" she prompted to Quinn.

"Sure," Quinn replied noncommittally. She walked forward with Rachel, calling over her shoulder with a cruel snicker, "Throw the rest of my food away, will you, Santana?"

There was a grumbled reply that Rachel didn't catch as they walked towards the nearest cafeteria exit. Quinn looked behind them once the door was closed, then back over to Rachel. "I'm assuming what you wanted to talk about has nothing to do with glee club."

"I want to talk about us," was all Rachel said.

Quinn didn't say anything after that and they kept walking down the hallways until they made it outside. They were at the football field, Rachel's thinking spot and she quickly walked towards the bleachers. "This is where I sometimes come to think," she told Quinn as they walked up towards the middle rows. She smoothed down the back of her skirt and sat down, peering up at Quinn despite the blinding sun in her eye.

"Is that why I always catch you out here?" Quinn asked as she sat down beside Rachel. "I always assumed you were watching Finn. Until you told me you were gay, then I assumed you had spent the whole time watching me."

There was a hint of a playful smile hiding in the corners of her lips now that they were alone that Rachel stared at with a smile of her own. "Sometimes I watched you," she admitted. "Later on, though. When I first began sitting out here, it really was the chance to think and the chance to stare at the football players and wonder why I wasn't attracted to them," she finished quietly.

Quinn seemed to sober at Rachel's words as she turned away. Her gaze washed over the empty football field pensively. "You can see everything from up here," she observed quietly. "You can learn a lot about yourself from just _watching_… You don't really have to _do_ anything."

Rachel smiled sadly at the clouded, almost petulant expression that was suddenly taking over Quinn's features. It put her in the mind of her father and for some reason this moment endeared Quinn to her even more. "Yes, but sometimes learning through actions yields more concrete results," she told her, hoping they were referring to the same thing.

Quinn turned to look at her sharply. Her eyes flickered all over Rachel's face in a silent critique. "I like kissing you," she said resolutely with a bite to her voice that suggested otherwise. "Obviously. But I just…" she trailed off into a frustrated growl that sounded so much more appealing to Rachel's ears than it probably should have considering the situation. The palm of Quinn's hands slammed against the metal bleachers and her fingers curled around the edge to grip it tightly.

She seemed to be, in general, an emotionally stunted person and it made Rachel feel the slightest bit better about the fact that not _all_ of the complications of their committed non-relationship stemmed from the ambiguity of Quinn's sexuality and the issues that held. However, a large percentage of their issues _did_ stem from Quinn and her sexuality and if Rachel could plow through the first issue, hopefully they could move on to the next.

Rachel took a deep breath as she scooted closer. Her hand came down to rest gently on Quinn's and an encouraging smile lit her face. "I know it's probably difficult to say what you're feeling—"

Quinn chuckled bitterly. "Don't treat me like I'm some psych patient, Rachel."

"I-I'm not. I'm just trying to help," Rachel whispered.

"Why are you going to the party on Friday?" Quinn asked abruptly.

It kind of made her upset that she had to answer the question as if Quinn was her girlfriend and she had to answer to her, but Rachel found herself answering anyway. "Because I've never been to a high school party."

"And—what? Letting Puck flirt with you was just a way to get into the party?" Quinn asked accusingly.

"Hey!" Rachel instantly protested. "I did not _allow_ Noah to do anythi—"

"I mean, I thought you liked _me_, but—"

"Quinn, stop," Rachel interrupted softly as she stared at the slowly crumbling look on Quinn's face. Her fingers wrapped around Quinn's on the bench warmly. "I _do_ like you, and I've done nothing but jump through hoops just to find a way to be with you despite all of the stipulations you put on us because of your sexuality and the fact that you say you aren't ready for a relationship even though that's what this already is."

"If that's already what this is, then why do you want more?" Quinn asked, grip on the bench tightening in her indignation. "Why isn't this enough for you?"

"Because I want to be able to call you mine," Rachel told her truthfully. "I want to be able to say that I'm yours, even if the only person I get to make that claim to is myself. I want you to treat me with the respect and care that I hope you'd treat me with if I was your girlfriend, Quinn. I don't want to be thrown out of the locker room without so much as a goodbye because you're so afraid of getting caught when _you're_ the one who kissed _me_ first in the first place."

Quinn stared at her, jaw clenched for a long moment. She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, but then she closed her mouth, rubbed her lips together as her eyebrows dipped as she looked away. Rachel gently pried her hand away from the bench and held it in her lap as Quinn pursed her lips together. "I already said I was sorry for that," she said quietly. "You don't get it."

"Get what?" Rachel asked. "That you're sorry? I get that and I even understand, but—"

"I'm sorry, do you have parents who would burn you at the stake like a witch if they found out you were gay?" Quinn asked snidely.

"No," Rachel murmured as she ducked her head, choosing, for Quinn's sake, to not focus on the fact that she more or less admitted to being gay. "But I _do_ understand what it feels like to be afraid to tell your parents."

"Your parents are gay," Quinn scoffed.

"And you think that makes it easier?" Rachel challenged. "I didn't tell my fathers I was gay until _months_ after I was finally able to admit it to myself. And even then, I came out by mistake—it was a slip up and not a conscious declaration on my part."

"It's not that easy," Quinn said forcefully.

Rachel shook her head solemnly. "It's not. But eventually ignoring how you feel becomes harder than admitting it to yourself." She absentmindedly dragged her fingers along Quinn's and watched the way hazel eyes dropped to her lap as Quinn swallowed thickly.

"I don't—" Quinn bit her lip and stared at the way Rachel intertwined their fingers. "I just keep thinking of you moving on to Molly or to Puck, and—"

"I'm gay," Rachel said with a bemused smile.

"You know what I mean," Quinn grumbled. "It…it scares me, okay? I feel like if I don't do something soon, then you'll just move on. And all I want is just a little more time."

Rachel tightened her fingers around Quinn's with a sigh as she wondered what it would take to get Quinn to realize how invested she was in them already. "Quinn, I said that I like you and I meant it, okay? Just because Molly is my friend doesn't mean I'm going to develop feelings for her overnight. And I will _never_ develop feelings for Noah Puckerman of all people." She smiled tentatively. "I'll wait. I just hope you won't keep me waiting for too long."

Quinn scooted closer as the wind picked up. Her eyes dropped from Rachel's to her lips, then down to their joined hands in Rachel's lap. "Rachel," she said softly.

Emotion settled warmly in Rachel's chest just at the way Quinn said her name so deliberately. Her grip around Quinn's fingers tightened as she found herself leaning forward without much thought. Her voice trembled as she spoke. "Yes, Quinn?"

"I—"

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and Rachel cursed every cliché that ever existed as Quinn spun around and looked towards the school. A mountain of disappointment tumbled on Rachel and her bottom lip jutted out at having this moment ruined.

But Quinn just spun back around and stared at her for a second before giving her hand a tentative squeeze. She quickly leaned in and cupped Rachel's cheek softly. "I like you," she whispered. "Okay?"

She nodded dumbly, and Quinn just breathed a relieved sigh and leaned forward to kiss Rachel quickly. Their lips touched and sparked and Rachel sagged against her as Quinn made an, "_Mmm_," sound against her lips as if Rachel tasted like the best thing on Earth.

Quinn pulled away, long eyelashes fluttering open. "Call me," she breathed, flashing a small smile before standing up and quickly walking down the bleachers.

Rachel inhaled quick, panting breaths to calm her raging heart as she watched Quinn walk away.

Quinn liked her.

Quinn _liked_ her.

A dopey grin broke out on her face.


	20. Chapter 20

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

* * *

><p>It was seven-thirty on a Friday evening and she wasn't on the phone. She was, aside from Jacob and maybe Kurt, the <em>only<em> teenager in Lima, in the _country_, who wasn't on the phone right now.

Rachel flipped her phone shut and glared down at the stir-fry on her plate. This was utterly ridiculous. She needed a new phone plan, because—what even?

"What's wrong, dear?" Leroy asked after wiping a napkin across his mouth.

She jostled rice around her plate with a frown. "I want to call Quinn," she mumbled.

Leroy's gaze flicked from Rachel to Hiram in confusion, then back again. "Why can't you?"

Rachel glared over at Hiram.

"Because minutes aren't free until eight," Hiram supplied. "Our phone bill has been a little rambunctious lately."

"I've only called her about twice before eight!" Rachel defended.

"I will go upstairs right now and show you that cellphone bill, Rachel Barbra," he threatened.

"Okay," Leroy drawled. "Let's all calm down, shall we?" He pulled up his blue shirt sleeve and twisted his watch around to face him. "Rachel, honey, you only have a half hour left. How about you assuage our worries about this party and tell us what's going to be happening?"

She slumped back in her seat with a pout. This had been happening the past two days. The closer the date of the party came, the more her fathers would worry about her. "I've never been to a party before, so I wouldn't know," she told them.

"Now that's not true," Hiram admonished. "You just recently went to your cousin Sophia's birthday party."

She nodded and shrugged all at once. "Yes, that's true, dad. But high school parties are much…cooler."

"Does cooler translate to sex and alcohol?" Leroy asked.

"Not necessarily," squeaked out nervously from her throat. "It just means that the music and dancing will be, you know, _existent_."

"That's not nice," Leroy said. "Sophia's party had, uh—" he gesticulated with his hands as Rachel stared blankly at him.

"_Can't Touch This_?" Hiram supplied.

"Yes, that," Rachel supplied. "This party will not have _that_."

"A pity, if you ask me," Leroy commented.

Hiram nodded in agreement. "Mhm, such a good song."

"Back to the sex and alcohol, though: don't lose your virginity at a party, baby girl. It's tacky."

"The tackiest," Hiram agreed.

"Will Quinn be there?"

"Yes, daddy," she drawled in annoyance. "Just because she and I will be in the same place, unsupervised, does not mean—"

"There's no supervision at this party?" Hiram asked suddenly.

Rachel winced at her own blunder. "Umm, I'm sure Noah's neighbors will keep an eye on us?" she stated as more of a question rather than a definitive fact.

Hiram's brow furrowed as he looked towards Leroy. "Did she just lie to us?" he muttered lowly as if having a private conversation though he knew Rachel could hear him.

Her lips balled up and she set them free with a popping sound, slumping back into her seat and folding her arms.

"I think she did," Leroy said, playing along. "She should know that at this point in her teenage career _lying_ is quite possibly the _worst_ thing she could do."

"Worse than losing her virginity at a party."

"…No, I don't think there's anything worse than that."

"You would know."

"Hey!"

"Okay, I get it," Rachel cut in. "Sorry for lying."

Hiram leaned over towards her. "So, what time will we be driving you to his soirée? Don't want to be too early."

Rachel perked up at the fact that she was still being allowed to go. "Finn is taking me, dad. His mom is allowing him to drive for the night."

"Finn Hudson driving?" Leroy said, tasting the words on his tongue. "That doesn't sound right."

"Does he even have his license?" Hiram asked.

"Yes. His mother just prefers to do the driving. But he _can_ drive," Rachel insisted.

Leroy chuckled. "Tell that to the mailman."

"Ooh, we've got ourselves a zinger!"

"Don't encourage him, dad," Rachel sighed in exasperation.

Leroy glanced down at his watch again. "It's eight, dear. Go call your girlfriend."

She squealed and immediately pushed her chair back to stand up. "Bye, dads!"

"Children these days are so hyper," Leroy said as he watched her run up the stairs.

"No, your daughter these days is so hyper," Hiram corrected.

Rachel closed the door to her room and quickly dialed Quinn's number. She sank onto her bed sheets feeling like the coolest girl in the world. She was about to go to a high school party full of jocks and right now she was calling the coolest, prettiest girl in school. She stared up at the ceiling as the line clicked.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Quinn," she whispered shyly into the phone. The novelty of hearing the low timbre of Quinn's voice wafting through the line would never wear off.

"Hey. Hold on for a second." The distinct sound of a door creaking shut reached Rachel's ears before Quinn spoke. "Okay, I'm back. How are you?"

"I'm well," Rachel chirped. "I'm really, really excited for the night. How are you?"

"Sore," Quinn complained. "My hamstrings are killing me."

Rachel pouted sympathetically. "I'm sorry. Perhaps alternating heat and ice on it will help."

"I'm just going to go to sleep," Quinn responded with a yawn. Rachel could picture her now, lying on her bed with the same serene look she had had on her face the morning she had woken up on Rachel's chest.

"You're going to sleep?" Rachel asked with a frown. "Don't you know the party is tonight?"

"Yeah, but I'm not going for another three hours, so…"

"But it starts at ten."

Quinn chuckled. "No one ever goes to a party at the time it starts, Rachel."

"I am," she protested.

"So, umm, you really are still going to the party, then?" Quinn asked quietly.

Rachel smiled in mild exasperation at the muted anxiety she had now learned to pick up in Quinn's voice. "Yes, I'm still going. No, I will not flirt with Noah and no, Molly won't be there."

"Better not," Quinn grumbled.

"Besides, I'll only be paying attention to the prettiest girl there anyway," Rachel said sincerely.

She heard Quinn inhale a sharp breath and hold it, the line silent for a few painstaking seconds as Rachel rolled over onto her stomach. Her legs swung in the air in her excitement of how Quinn was going to respond.

"That was…really sweet, actually," Quinn murmured.

"You'll find that I'm very romantic. If you give us a chance," she added quietly.

Quinn took another deep breath and cleared her throat to assert the words, "So, what are you going to wear?" into the conversation.

Rachel could do little more than roll right along with the subject change. "It's a surprise!" she squealed excitedly. "You'll see it when we get there."

Quinn scoffed. "Fine, fine."

"What are _you_ going to wear?" Rachel asked instead.

"You'll see it when we get there," Quinn mocked.

She rolled her eyes. "I see."

The line was silent for a while then Quinn made this cute little purring sound as Rachel imagined her stretching before she sighed into the phone, "I really don't want to seem rude, but—"

"No, go ahead," Rachel said with a smile as that sound worked its way into her chest. "Have a good nap."

"I'll see you in a few hours," Quinn said assuredly.

"Okay, bye, Quinn."

She hung up the phone with a squeal and hopped up from her bed. She only had two hours left until the party began and it was important to be punctual. There was a knock on the door as she was walking to her closet and she turned swiftly towards the noise. The door swung open and her jaw dropped as Kurt waltzed in. "Hey, girl!"

"K-Kurt, hi," Rachel stammered in confused excitement as he embraced her. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, but…what are you doing here?"

"Are you _kidding_ me?" he exclaimed. "You're my ticket into that party!" He breezed past her and walked directly towards her closet.

"Kurt, I'm not sure I can bring a plus one," Rachel told him.

He frowned, more at the black and white polka-dotted dress he pulled out of her closet than at her statement. "This is the only dress I even remotely like," he muttered.

"That's a very pretty dress, Kurt," she defended.

"Yeah, well, it will be after I accessorize it." He picked up a bag that Rachel had just now noticed off of the floor "Okay, now, just put on the dress and scarf around your waist while I go change. When I get back, we can get started on make-up."

In a flash Kurt was gone before Rachel could even say a word. A grin fought its way onto her face at the thought of having a friend with her at the party. She considered Santana and Brittany to be her friends but they were more of Quinn's friends than anything else. But having Finn and now Kurt there would tremendously help her feel comfortable.

She changed into the dress quickly and smoothed down places where it bunched as Kurt knocked on the door. "Come in," she called.

The door opened a little and Kurt peeked from around the corner with his eyes closed. "Are you decent? Because I can't handle opening my eyes and seeing you half naked."

"I'm decent," Rachel answered with a roll of her eyes.

He opened his eyes and walked into the room, appraising her with a pleased smile. "Looking good, Miss Berry."

"You don't look so bad yourself."

She turned to rummage through his bag and produced an eyeliner pencil. "Where did you get this?" she inquired as she walked over to her vanity. Quinn had told her that her eyes were pretty and hopefully a little eyeliner would make them pop and a little lip gloss would have Quinn staring at her lips all night. She gingerly ran the pencil along the edge of her eye, trying to calm her anxiety and remember the patient way Quinn had done it.

"The local store," Kurt told her. "I wore a lot of plaid and told the lady in a deep voice that I was buying it for my girlfriend." He laughed. "She practically fell in love with me."

"If only she knew," Rachel giggled.

He saddled up beside her as she capped the eyeliner. "Someone's getting all dolled up for Quinn."

"I want to look pretty for her," Rachel said softly.

Kurt smoothed down his vest as he looked in the mirror. "And I want to look sharp for Finn."

"Still climbing that tree, huh?"

"A very big, very tall tree, yes."

Rachel rubbed her glossed lips together and pursed them to look at their shine. Content, she walked over to her bed and grabbed her phone. "Finn should be here in a minute. I lectured him on punctuality today in school for this specific moment and—"

"Rach?" Hiram called while knocking on her door. "Finn is here."

She grinned widely and hooked her arm around Kurt's. "Ready to be the coolest people in school?"

"Aren't we already?" he quipped.

* * *

><p>They arrived to the party at ten-thirty after Kurt insisted that he needed to stop for gum at the store. He and Rachel stood on Puck's doorstep, bouncing eagerly from foot to foot as Finn stood off to the side with his hands stuffed into his pockets. "Let's do this," Rachel whispered. She knocked loudly on the door and they waited.<p>

A moment later Puck was holding the door open and staring at them strangely. He ran a hand through his mohawk. "Didn't know people were coming this early," he muttered.

"We are punctual people, Noah," Rachel supplied.

He shrugged and stepped aside to allow them entry. "Whatever. Welcome to my humble abode, Jew baby."

"Please refrain from calling me that," she replied as she walked into the house. There were a few balloons around the place and a banner that read _Puckasaurus_ _Reigns_. Rachel stood still and allowed Puck to lead them further into the house.

"You guys are the only ones here," he said as he walked them towards the kitchen. There was a small table with bottles on top of it and two chairs on either side of it. She sat down on one, warily eying the alcohol on the table. This was really her first time coming into contact with it and the faint yet palpable smell was intriguing. Finn sat on the other side of the table and Kurt sat _directly_ beside him. Puck sat beside her with a bottle in his hand and gave it to her. "Drink up."

She turned the bottle over again and again in her hand. It was a wine cooler, she realized. Not much alcohol, mostly fruit juice. She tentatively brought it to her lips and took a sip.

"Maybe you shouldn't drink, Rach," Finn said from the other side of the table. "You've never drank before."

Rachel shrugged a shoulder as the smooth liquid slid down her throat. It had an unfamiliar after taste that was less fruit juice and more alcohol. "Finn, this is the first real party I've been to. I want the full experience," she reasoned. "Besides, I'm not getting _drunk_, I'm _drinking_ and there is a difference." She took another sip to prove her point.

"Yeah, let the girl drink," Kurt said. He turned to Puck. "Can I have one?"

"Go for it, dude."

Rachel watched the two of her friends closely as she began to nurse her drink with earnest. As long as she had the two of them and Quinn, she would be alright as far as drinking was concerned. But this was her first party and she wanted to experience everything high school parties had to offer.

She polished off the bottle and stared down at the label on the back as she idly wondered what ingredients were in it. "This was delicious," she muttered.

"You like that?" Puck asked. He grabbed another bottle and handed it to her like it was candy. She held it in her hand and looked across the table to where Kurt was helping himself to another bottle. Puck slid an arm around the back of her chair and she jumped nervously before realizing it was him. "Don't worry, Berry—"

"Rachel," she corrected quietly. Her finger absentmindedly swirled over lip of the bottle before she brought it to her lips and drew a sip from it.

"Rachel, sorry." He adjusted himself to turn towards her and she watched with detached interest how large and almost clumsy he looked. Quinn wasn't clumsy. Ever. She was dainty and graceful and that was a lot more appealing than trying to watch Puck's shoulders fit into a chair. A warm hum began to seep into her as she continued to sip from the bottle.

"Anyway, how ya been? You weren't at the game today."

She had wanted to go, but getting ready for a party was an all-day event. She had washed her hair and curled it, showered, eaten dinner—all of that took time. "I hope you guys won." She found herself becoming easily distracted by thoughts of Quinn that were getting vaguer every few seconds.

"We did," Puck said with a grin. "You saw that banner out there."

She nodded slightly jerkily. "I did."

"These are awesome!" Kurt called from out of nowhere.

Rachel tilted her head to find him turning the bottle around in wonder like she had a few minutes prior. "Right? So good."

Finn eyed them both in bemusement. He stood up to walk towards the door. "I'll go get that."

"Get what?" Rachel called as he walked away. He didn't answer, and she had already forgotten her question. She felt something engulf her hand completely and looked down to find Puck grasping her hand.

"So, anyway, look Be—Rachel. My mom's kinda been on my ass about how I'm a failure because I'm not dating a nice Jewish girl."

"Jewish girls…are awesome," Rachel said simply with wide, sincere eyes.

Puck smiled and shifted closer. "Yeah, I know. So, I was wondering if you'd go out with me."

A crowd began walking through the house as if the entire party arrived at the same time. Distracted, Rachel's eyes flittered around to a sea of letterman jackets and she wondered if these people ever took their status symbols off. A hand lifted her chin and drew her closer. Her vision swam with eyes that were too dark, eyebrows that were too dark and bushy, and a hint of facial hair that threw her completely off. Her brow furrowed.

"That a yes?" Puck asked.

"What the hell _is_ this?" a very familiar voice with a very familiar, angry inflection asked. Rachel sighed in relief. But then a hand was curling tightly around her arm and yanking her up. Rachel looked up to find pinched hazel eyes, thin furrowed eyebrows and nothing but pale, smooth skin. Quinn's gaze washed over her face in critical assessment. Then her bottle was instantly taken away as Quinn spun her around. "Go. And stop drinking," she ordered and gave her a gentle shove. Rachel stumbled forward slightly with a frown as she heard Puck's pained outcry and Quinn's growled, "You need to leave. Her. Alone," as she walked away.

Well, _that_ was a less than stellar greeting. She was oddly undeterred though as she floated through the party. There were a lot of bodies and a _lot_ of gyration that she had to maneuver through. She wondered where Kurt was—losing touch was not a part of the plan. But he was probably okay wherever he was.

Rachel walked into what she assumed was the living room. There were patchy couches that people were sitting on and a large table in the corner. Recognizing two very distinct people, she walked across the living room to where Brittany was sitting on Matt's lap and Santana just beside them.

Brittany was nursing a bottle. A bottle that would have been similar to Rachel's had Quinn not taken it. She waved at the two as she approached them. "Greetings, Santana, Brittany."

"Hi, Rachel!" Brittany greeted. She stood up with a stumble and flung her long arms around Rachel. "We pre-gamed before we got here," she giggled into Rachel's ear.

Rachel pulled back to find Santana staring at her with an amused grin. "What's a pre-game?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "Drinking before the party."

"Are you drunk?"

"Do I look drunk?"

Her tilted as she stared up at Santana. "You don't look drunk," she concluded.

Santana laughed. "You do, though."

"I'm not drunk," Rachel asserted.

"Maybe not, but you're tipsy as hell."

She grinned as the warmth flowing throughout her body made her feel outrageously calm. "I'll give you that one." She spun around quickly to where Quinn had just pushed her away and back towards Santana. "Is Quinn drunk?"

"She's getting there."

"She seemed really coherent, though," Rachel murmured over the music. "When she was yelling at Puck…and me." Her eyes strayed to where Brittany was kissing Matt with a curious frown as Santana laughed.

"She's a pretty angry drunk."

Rachel's arm extended to point a finger behind Santana. "Is she cheating on you? I—that's what I'm seeing, right? Oh, wow."

Santana didn't even turn around, just scoffed at Rachel. "Get with the times, Berry." She slung an arm around Rachel's shoulder and drew her closer. "Look here," she instructed, though Rachel was already looking at Brittany now straddling Matt. "I'm about to have a 'threesome' with Britts and Matt. And by threesome I mean Britts and I are gonna mack on Matt for about ten minutes, then I'm gonna eat B until she passes out and try to ignore Matt grunting in the corner like the sixteen year old hornball he is."

Rachel stared up at her in horror. Her jaw was practically on the floor from everything she had just heard. She blinked rapidly as her mind worked over time to make sure she had heard right. When she looked up, Santana just shrugged. "It's not gay if a boy's involved." The somber tone of her voice belied the smirk on her face.

It felt like everything Rachel had known had just been turned upside down. Then again, it could have been the alcohol. She ran a hand through her hair and watched as Brittany stood up with her hand firmly clasped around Matt's. "I'm ready," she whispered to Santana.

Santana winked at her with a grin before turning to Rachel. "Good luck with Quinn. She's a little loose when she's drunk. But this is Quinn we're talking about, so she's actually _normal_ when she's drunk." With that, she grabbed Brittany's hand and they all walked up the stairs. Rachel trailed behind them, not really sure where she was going. She stared up at the top of the stairs where the three of them stumbled into a room and closed the door. The party continued on like normal as if Santana and Brittany carrying a boy up to a room at a party was natural.

Rachel wasn't sure she could do that. She wasn't sure she could…whore herself out just to have the chance to make-out with Quinn. Either Santana and Brittany really loved each other, or they were both cowards.

Her skin prickled when she felt a presence against her back. It was the warm, barely there press of a body. A hand landed on her hip with familiarity and she relaxed, warmth coursing through her as the words, "Let's go upstairs," were breathed into her ear.

The body pulled away and Rachel watched with heavy lidded eyes as Quinn began walking upstairs. She was in a dark dress and a cardigan, but what Rachel was captivated by was the way her hips made her ass sway with each step she took.

Her throat bobbed with a tight swallow as she blindly followed Quinn up the stairs. They made a left and walked down the hallway to a dark room. Quinn flipped the lights on and walked inside with familiarity that Rachel didn't want to think about. She closed the door behind her and stared over at Quinn as she took her cardigan off.

Quinn threw it onto the bed and cautiously walked over to Rachel. "How drunk are you?" she asked softly.

"Not very. More like, tipsy," Rachel whispered back. "You?"

She rubbed her lips together thoughtfully as she came to a full stop in front of Rachel. "Same."

Rachel nodded. Her eyes dipped down to Quinn's breasts before they strayed to a nearby wall as she chastised herself. "Were you not having fun downstairs?"

Quinn frowned immediately. "Did you want to go back downstairs? You can go and—"

"No," Rachel murmured as she reached out and grabbed her hand. "I don't want to—this is fine. More than, actually."

"You're sure?" Quinn asked.

She nodded jerkily and tugged Quinn closer. "You look really pretty."

Quinn's gaze dipped bashfully at the compliment. Her cheeks flushed as her eyes dragged back up Rachel's body. "So do you." She reached out to lock the door, then her hand landed warmly on Rachel's waist to slide down to her hip. A shiver worked its way down Rachel's spine as the warmth she had been feeling increased ten-fold.

"Really?" Rachel asked, feeling new and polished from the compliment.

Quinn nodded, looking down at her hand that slowly trailed up Rachel's waist to finger the scarf wrapped around it. "I like this," she mumbled.

A trickle of heat slid down into Rachel's abdomen as she released a shuddery breath. "Kurt let me borrow it."

Quinn hummed a response absentmindedly. She looked up to meet Rachel's eyes with a quirk of her lips. "You're wearing eyeliner." Her hand slid up Rachel's body to wind into the hair at the nape of her neck. "It looks good on you."

Rachel exhaled a harsh breath as heavy lidded hazel eyes watched her with staggeringly sharp focus considering Quinn's slightly inebriated state. Quinn was so…so _sensual_ and Rachel hadn't known someone so chaste could be this way. It proved more than anything that something like sensuality couldn't be taught. Either someone had it or they didn't, and president of the celibacy club, good girl, Quinn Fabray _had_ it in spades.

The buildup was slow, slower than it had ever been between them as Quinn ducked her head until their lips were just scant centimeters apart. Then she just pressed them together with the barest hint of pressure that still made Rachel's lips tingle. Quinn pulled back enough to tilt her head until their lips slanted against each other and Rachel whimpered at the increased pressure, the firm softness of red lips against her own. She grabbed at Quinn's waist and drew her closer to crush their bodies together against the door.

It creaked loudly and Quinn instantly drew back. Her lips were parted as she panted down at Rachel with flushed cheeks and darkened eyes. She looked absolutely beautiful, and Rachel was pretty sure she could stare at her for forever. Quinn had other plans, however, as she grabbed Rachel's hand and tugged her to the bed.

They settled down on top of it with slightly groggy movements. Quinn turned to Rachel with a smile and shuffled closer. "You're so much better at this," she mumbled as she kissed Rachel again.

It kind of felt like a backhanded compliment that was knocking her former style of kissing but Rachel couldn't find it in her to mind much as Quinn shifted closer to press the entire length of her body against her. She buried a hand in silky blonde hair and drew Quinn closer. A pleasant buzz rushed down her spine at the increasing wet smack of their lips. Quinn seemed to be going for the gold and Rachel was hardly the one to stop her.

Her bottom lip slipped between both of Quinn's and she arched with a moan as Quinn bit her softly. Quinn responded with a quiet moan of her own as she shifted to try to get that much closer. Her hand curled around Rachel's waist and slid up along her ribcage. She sighed and pulled back to take a breath. "I hate that you're wearing a dress," she breathed.

Rachel's eyes fluttered open to stare up at her. The taste of peppermint, cherries, and vodka rolled around on her tongue as her gaze dropped to red lips. She just wanted to be kissing Quinn again. "Why?" she asked, though she had a fairly good idea as Quinn's fingers twitched in uncertainty against her ribcage.

Quinn's only response was to lean down and kiss her soundly. Rachel's hand was back at gripping her hair again as her other hand roved down the smooth expanse of her back. Slim muscles twitched under her fingertips as Quinn arched in an attempt to be closer. A smooth thigh slid along hers and Rachel groaned hotly into Quinn's mouth at the feel of her dress riding up. The thigh hooked onto the other side of her hip and the next thing she knew the mattress was shifting and the slight weight of one Quinn Fabray was settling warmly on her pelvis. She groaned unabashedly, her hands flying to the backs of Quinn's thighs in an attempt to hold her in place.

Her dress had fallen back down to clothe most of her lower half and a spike of disappointment shot through Rachel when, instead of feeling smooth, creamy skin, she felt the silky fabric of her dress. That didn't stop her fingers from trailing up Quinn's thighs as a slippery tongue dragged across the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth eagerly as Quinn slipped inside and settled more on top of her. One arm slid along the bed to hold her weight while the hand of her other arm firmly held onto Rachel's side. Her thumb rubbed circles into her ribs in a way that made Rachel's taut nipples ache.

This was going to be where she died.

She was sure of it. There was no way a person could sustain this much pleasure for this amount of time without some form of crescendo that _wouldn't_ be happening tonight because she did kind of agree with her fathers about losing one's virginity at a party being tacky.

But her hands couldn't stay still. And she wasn't even made aware of trying to stop them until they slid up to cup the two very round, very soft, very firm globes of Quinn's ass. She flexed her fingers outward as far as she could and _squeezed_. A needy moan like nothing she had ever heard before ripped from Quinn's long throat as she pulled her mouth away.

Quinn stared down at her sternly. Rachel was in the process of peeling her fingers back in fear that she had done something wrong, a profuse apology on the tip of her tongue, when Quinn breathily told her, "Do it again."

Her lips parted in shock at Quinn's words. She felt…vaguely depraved, but _whatever_. She had handfuls of Quinn's ass and that was all that mattered. Her body reacted before she even consented and she squeezed again, fascinated by the way Quinn's eyes fluttered closed. She shuddered and dropped onto her hands, her knees on either side of Rachel's hips as she stared down at her. "I've never let a boy do that to me."

Rachel almost smiled at the mystified arousal swirling in murky green eyes. "But I'm not a boy," she murmured.

Quinn shook her head and buried her face into Rachel's neck. She licked a hot trail up to her ear as Rachel's hands trailed up her back. "Definitely not," Quinn moaned. "We should—" Her breath hitched and for the first time, the amount of indescribable heat radiating from their point of contact became apparent to Rachel. "We should stop," Quinn finished.

She was reluctant to agree, but she _did_ agree and her hands fell away from the trembling body on top of her. Quinn sagged against her for a moment before rolling off and onto her back beside Rachel. Both stared up at the ceiling, panting.

Rachel's fingers flexed into fists before she brought them up to stare at them. Those hands were the same hands that had just been grasping at Quinn's ass. Finn didn't even get to touch her there long before Quinn moved his hand away and not only did Rachel get the chance to touch her there, but Quinn had _encouraged_ her. Her head lolled to the side to stare at Quinn. Her eyes were clenched shut as her chest heaved with deep breaths. She looked tense, like she was trying to keep herself from doing something. "Did-did you…?" she let the question trail off, remembering the amount of heat coming from Quinn right before she pulled away.

Quinn blinked her eyes open at the question. She turned to Rachel, brow furrowed in confusion. "Did I—what?"

She licked her lips nervously. "Did you have an orgasm?" she asked plainly.

Hazel eyes widened and a heavy blush painted Quinn's cheeks. "Oh…no!" she answered quickly. "No, no, it's not—I've never…"

"Oh," Rachel uttered softly. "Okay, I was just—I just wanted to make sure I didn't do anything that would make you uncomfortable."

Her shoulders bounced with a quiet giggle. "I think the problem was that I was _too_ comfortable."

The corners of Rachel's lips pulled into a large grin as she stared at her. "Well, that's good."

Quinn hummed and slumped back against the bed to stare at the ceiling. Rachel lifted her head enough to find Quinn's hand. She grabbed it and intertwined their fingers before slumping back against the bed. "I'm a little sleepy," she admitted.

"Alcohol effects," Quinn told her.

"Hmm. Is this fun for you?"

"What, like, being in here with you, or—"

"Parties," she elaborated. She squeezed Quinn's fingers and pressed the palms of their hands together to lie on her stomach.

Quinn shifted uncomfortably on the bed with a sigh. "Not really, I guess. But I mean, I do it to stay popular and stuff."

"And the drinking?"

Quinn shrugged. "Livens it up some."

"This was the first party I've ever been to," Rachel told her.

"Really?" Quinn asked as she looked over at her. She stared at Rachel's profile as her eyes fluttered.

"Well, I mean, I've been to a few cousins' birthday parties and such."

Quinn laughed softly. "You are…so interesting."

Rachel frowned at what she assumed was a patronizing comment, but turned to find Quinn staring at her intently. "In a good way?" she couldn't help but ask.

"In a good way," Quinn murmured.

Her lips lazily pulled upwards into a smile and she watched the echo of it on Quinn's face. Quinn shifted closer with a light purr rumbling in her chest as she rested her forehead against Rachel's. "I locked that door, right?" she asked as her eyes slipped closed.

Rachel nodded. "That you did."

"Good." She let go of Rachel's hand at their now awkward angle and rested it on her thigh. "I think I'm gay," she whispered very, very quietly.

Her breathing was evening out, and Rachel wasn't exactly sure why Quinn chose to have this conversation while they were both falling asleep. "What gave it away?" she asked.

"Don't make fun of me," Quinn told her.

"I'm not," Rachel assured in a soft voice.

Quinn sighed in relief and snuggled just that much closer. "You should be my girlfriend," she breathed.

Rachel stopped moving completely. She wasn't sure she had even heard Quinn right. She pulled back to stare down at the serene look on her face. Quinn was already asleep. Rachel huffed out an exasperated breath. "If only you could ask me that when you're sober," she grumbled as she kissed Quinn's forehead.

She grabbed the hand from her thigh and wrapped it around her as she snuggled under Quinn's chin with a contented sigh.

* * *

><p>A thunderous knock on the door nearly caused Rachel to have a heart attack as she and Quinn jumped up from the bed.<p>

"Hey, honeys!" Santana called in condescending annoyance. "Cops!"

"_What_!" Rachel shrieked.

"Shit," Quinn muttered. "I hate parties." She stood up sluggishly as Rachel hopped out of bed at lightning speed and looked to Quinn who was _just_ slipping an arm into her cardigan.

"We have to get out of here!" Rachel told her with wide, terrified eyes. "I can't go to jail!"

"You're not going to go to jail," Quinn said, voice surprisingly calm, though peeved. "Let's go."

She walked to the door and opened it to find Brittany and Santana standing there. "Back exit," was all Santana said as they all began walking.

Rachel followed along dumbly, having no idea why everyone was so calm. "Does this happen often?" she inquired.

"More than I'd like it to," Quinn told her. Her jaw was tense as she slipped her hand into Rachel's to pull her closer before letting go. "Stay close behind. It's a lot of people trying to get out."

She nodded with a tight swallow.

They exited the house to find a large group of people in the backyard trying to leave as Quinn had said.

"What happened?" Santana asked brusquely to no one in particular.

"Noise complaint," a boy answered.

They walked across the street to a car and Rachel eyed them all in confusion as Santana got behind the wheel as the only sober one with Brittany riding shot gun and Quinn sliding into the backseat. "Wait, I can't go," she said quickly.

Santana started the engine. "You're either in or you're out, Berry."

"But Finn and Kurt—"

"Rachel, it's probably best if you get in," Quinn rushed out. "There are some really belligerent people here who the police are arresting and your eyes look really blown right now."

She tugged on her bottom lip in uncertainty. Finn and Kurt were her friends. They had come here together and she didn't want to leave them. But she didn't want to get arrested either. She felt completely sober now, but wasn't ignorant to the fact that alcohol was still in her system and one blow into a breathalyzer would easily prove that.

"Yo!" Santana yelled. "We gotta _go_!"

Quinn scooted further into the car. "Come on, Rachel."

But these were her friends, too, who were saving her from potentially getting arrested. She slid into the car, casting a glance at the house as she closed the car door. She fished out her phone that she had neatly tied into the back of the scarf behind her to send the same message to Finn and Kurt.

_**Did you make it out?**_

She looked up nervously as Santana winded down the roads quicker than she would have liked. Thankfully everyone was looking relatively sober. She casted a glance to Quinn who was reclined back in the seat, staring at her. "Are you okay?" Quinn asked.

Rachel nodded. "I am. Thank you. I'm just worried about Finn and Kurt."

"I'm sure they're gone by now," Quinn assured.

From the front of the car, Santana called back to them. "I'm driving both of you to your house, Q. I don't know where Berry lives and I just want to get off these streets."

Her heart began to thump quickly in anxiety before her brain even caught up. She was going to have to go to Quinn's house. Where Quinn's parents were. She turned to Quinn, seeing that she was thinking the same thing in their mirrored facial expressions.

"Fine," was all Quinn bit out, though she looked like she had much more to say.

Rachel's phone buzzed and she flipped it open to find a text from Kurt.

_**Yeah, we're fine. Finn is driving me home now. Did you make it out? That party was amazinggg!**_

Her heart was sitting here threatening to burst from her chest or stop beating all together, yet Kurt apparently had the best time of his life. She chuckled, truthfully she had had fun, too, but spending the night at the Fabray's left her terrified.

_**I'm fine. And yeah, great party. Have a good night, Kurt.**_

She immediately began dialing her father's phone number after the text. It rang a few times and she looked over to Quinn who looked to be in deep thought, biting her lower lip as her brow furrowed.

"Hello?"

"Hi, daddy," Rachel spoke into the phone.

"Hey, baby girl! Are you on your way home?"

"Actually, I think I'm going to stay with Quinn tonight if that's alright."

"Are you alright? Is something the matter? Do I need to come get you?"

"Daddy, daddy, calm down. I'm fine," she said with a small giggle. "I just want to spend the night with Quinn."

It was quiet for a moment and she was afraid her father was going to say no. Santana was driving like a mad woman and didn't seem to be one to be deterred tonight. Rachel was most definitely not going home tonight and she just hoped her father was okay with that.

"Remember what we talked about earlier," he said sternly.

She flushed, muttering, "Yes, I remember. It's tacky."

"Good. I guess you can stay with her for the night. But you call me _as_ _soon_ as you wake up tomorrow, Rachel."

"Yes, daddy. I promise."

"Alright. Have a good night. I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you, too, daddy. Good night."

The car slowed down as she shut her phone and Rachel looked up to find Santana pulling into the Fabray driveway. Dread that she couldn't seem to place coursed through her and she looked over to Quinn.

Quinn offered a halfhearted shrug and opened the car door. Rachel unbuckled her seatbelt. "Thank you for the ride, Santana. Have a goodnight. You, too, Brittany."

Brittany whirled around with eyes too bright for two-thirty in the morning. "Night, Rachel!"

"Later, Berry," Santana called distractedly. She was engaged in a conversation with Quinn who had leaned into her window. They were speaking lowly and Rachel couldn't hear a word, so she just got out of the car and started for the door.

Quinn walked up behind her silently. When they made it to the door, they both stood around as Quinn fished out a pair of keys from her cardigan. Rachel was looking every which way nervously.

"Nervous?" Quinn asked.

She nodded.

"And speechless," Quinn mumbled. "That's a first."

She couldn't help but smile at the small tease and narrow her eyes in mock outrage at Quinn.

"I'm a little nervous, too," Quinn admitted. "But I've had friends over before, and…that's what this can be. Okay?"

With that she unlocked the door and stepped inside. Rachel cautiously stepped into the dark house, expecting Quinn's parents, whom she had no idea what they looked like, to jump out, tie her up, and burn her like a witch. A hand rested on her hip and she jumped with a squeak.

"Shh," Quinn whispered in her ear. "Don't make too much noise. We're just going to go to my room, change our clothes, and go to bed."

"Am I sleeping in your bed?" Rachel asked, looking up to where she assumed Quinn would be in the darkness.

"Do you want to?" Quinn asked instead.

"I do."

A hand fumbled down her arm in the dark until Quinn was clasping her hand. Without another word, she pulled her along and they walked through what Rachel realized was the hallway, past the kitchen, and all the way to the beginning of the living room before they took to the stairs. They took them cautiously and the floorboards creaked under them as they walked down the hallway to Quinn's room.

"They won't wake up," Quinn assured her. "_Nothing_ can wake them up if they've been drinking."

Rachel didn't really know what to do with that tidbit of information, so she just stored it in her mind to deal with tomorrow. The door to Quinn's room creaked open and they both walked inside. Quinn flicked the light on and closed and locked her door. Rachel slowly walked towards her bed to sit on it. Her nervousness was starting to slip away a little with the familiarity of Quinn's room, the bookcase in the corner, the lack of TV, the huge bed.

"I'll get you some clothes," Quinn muttered. She walked towards a set of drawers and quickly rummaged out two pairs of shorts and shirts. She walked back over to the bed to find Rachel staring up at her. "My bathroom is—if you want to change, then—"

She smiled, and stood up from the bed to grab the set of clothes. "I'll be right back." She walked into the bathroom and flicked on the light on the wall. It illuminated brightly with tiled walls and a large mirror. Large light bulbs hung above the mirror like Rachel wanted in her dressing rooms when she became a star.

With a tired sigh, she peeled off her dress. She hung it neatly on a rack in the bathroom. Then she grabbed the shorts. She gawked at them; these were _short_. These were like the shorts Quinn would wear when Rachel visited. And for some reason the thought of Quinn having worn these tiny black shorts caused heat to course through Rachel as she pulled them up her legs. They fit snugly in a way that made her want to show off her body on a runway or something. She shimmied into the shirt and smiled to herself in the mirror before walking out of the bathroom. When she entered the room, Quinn was already in a red pair of shorts and a tank top, braless. Rachel whimpered quietly at the sight of twin peaks leering at her when Quinn turned around; she looked unsure like this wasn't at all her area of expertise. It wasn't Rachel's either, but that didn't stop her from walking forward with a small smile. "Ready?"

"Umm, yeah," Quinn mumbled as she turned around. She bent at the waist to peel back her covers and Rachel's gaze dropped down to her ass which was _hardly_ covered by what Quinn liked to call shorts. It was so hard to believe that just an hour ago she had had her hands _all_ _over_ what she was staring at. Right now it looked so far away and untouchable. But for one shining tipsy moment an hour ago, that was hers.

When Quinn straightened back up, Rachel's gaze walked up to find her eyes. "Do you have a side of the bed that's your favorite, or…?"

"We've done this before," Rachel told her softly. "Admittedly, it was under less…stressing circumstances, but we _have_ done this before. So, we can do this now." She smiled tentatively and walked past Quinn to slip into the bed.

Quinn turned around and watched her get situated. Her eyes darted all around her room, along her bed, then slowly up to Rachel lying there staring at her.

"Is something wrong?" Rachel asked.

Quinn shook her head. "I just…never thought I'd have a girl sleeping in my bed."

Her head tilted in confusion. "But you've said you've had sleepovers before."

"This is…not that."

"Then what is this?" Rachel asked softly.

Quinn ran a hand through her hair as her eyes continued to bounce off the walls of her room before meeting Rachel's gaze again. "I don't know. More?"

It was still an undefined statement, but the fact that she was _more_ than the friends Quinn had had over for sleepovers made her grin up at her. "More is fine," Rachel agreed quietly. "For now."

Quinn just continued to stare down at her in muted wonder. Rachel turned onto her back and tucked an arm under her head to stare up at Quinn, wondering if she was ever going to come to bed. It seemed Quinn hadn't remembered what she had drunkenly slurred to Rachel before they both fell asleep on Puck's bed and Rachel didn't have the heart to ruin this moment by bringing it up.

But she found that she liked the curious way Quinn looked at her as she tried to compartmentalize this moment into a previous mold that Rachel already knew it wouldn't fit in. It was time for Quinn to start thinking differently and Rachel was happy to give her time to catch up.


	21. Chapter 21

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay. I was going to work on this chapter days ago, but school work was in the way, and a wonderfully amazing girl of mine was feeling a _little_ extra clingy lately so I've been reaping the benefits of that. But I'm here now! Thank you all for your reviews! And here's the next chapter.

* * *

><p>Her eyelids felt incredibly heavy and she wasn't in any hurry to open them. She had missed her morning exercise routine by a mile; her internal clock told her so. But there was a slight weight on her that she couldn't get up from.<p>

Quinn.

Rachel smiled.

She shifted a little in an attempt to get a better feel of just _where_ she and Quinn were touching. It was much the same as last time; Quinn's head lay on her sternum, her nose nuzzling Rachel's left breast in a way that made Rachel blush. A hand was curled tightly around her side in a way that Rachel had come to love. Their legs, completely bare, intertwined so intimately to the point that Rachel had to shift her own to figure out whose was whose. Her leg rubbed against one of Quinn's bare calves and she held her breath as Quinn moaned something non-intelligible in her sleep before turning over.

Finally, Rachel blinked groggy-eyes open. She blinked until her vision cleared and stared straight ahead. Her eyes rolled to the window and the bright sunlight that shined in the room, fractured and dimmed from the blinds and baby blue curtains. She followed a stream of light to a nearby wall of the photos of Quinn that Rachel had seen when she first visited the room. Her gaze swept curiously over Quinn's room in an attempt to acquaint herself with all the little things she had missed the first time she visited. In the farthest corner of her room, tucked between the wall and a dresser lay a small white…what looked to be a stuffed lamb. Rachel grinned widely. _That_ would explain Quinn's bed habits.

A hand rose to wipe the sleep from her eye as the other buried into Quinn's hair, lightly massaging her scalp. Last night had gone so much better than she thought it would. There was no drama, no fighting, nothing but thorough kisses and palm-fulls of Quinn's ass. And to top it all off, Quinn had asked her to be her girlfriend.

While she was slightly intoxicated, but it still counted.

Except it kind of didn't because before Rachel could even respond, Quinn had fallen asleep on her. And neither of them had brought it up last night before bed. Rachel didn't have the heart to because having a girl in her bed was already a shock to Quinn. And Quinn…Rachel wasn't really sure if Quinn even remembered or not. How much alcohol was required to constitute a blackout and memory loss of the night before? She didn't know and certainly couldn't Google it with Quinn sleeping peacefully on her chest with a possessive arm wrapped around her to keep her in place.

Rachel sighed. The longer she laid there, the more on edge she became. She was currently in the Fabray's house with the Fabray parents down the hall and their daughter's head on her chest. Their lesbian daughter who they were apparently completely ignorant to, if her own assumptions were anything to go on. She looked towards the door, making sure it was locked before she could breathe a small sigh of relief. But it would be short lived. Because eventually she and Quinn were going to have to get up and she was going to have to face Quinn's parents who—to Rachel's knowledge from what Quinn had told her—were not normal and drank on more than the occasion.

Uncomfortable, she grabbed Quinn's hand from around her waist and slowly pulled it away. She was becoming fidgety and didn't want to wake Quinn up because of her anxiousness. The more she thought over her situation, the more nervous she became. She was in the Fabray house, the people who burned witches, the people who Quinn couldn't even come out to—how the _hell_ was Rachel supposed to handle this situation?

She slipped from under Quinn with minimal issue and sat on the edge of the bed. "Calm down," she told herself. "The worst that could happen would be Mr. and Mrs. Fabray forbidding me to come back over. And that isn't so bad, right? It would minimize the time I get to spend with Quinn outside of school, but I have a house, too, and she could—"

"You even ramble when you talk to yourself," Quinn muttered groggily from behind her.

Rachel sprang up from the bed. She spun around quickly to find Quinn lying propped up on an elbow on her side, a mop of long blonde hair shading her eyes from Rachel's view as Quinn scratched at it. Her lips were pursed and red, looking irritated that she had been woken up, but too sleepy for it to actually be scary. In short, she looked adorable and Rachel's heart began to race at the very sight of her. "Good morning, Quinn."

"Morning," Quinn greeted around a yawn. She lay back down on the bed, back bowing in a stretch as her arms reached overhead. Her shirt rode up to expose her bare stomach and Rachel's eyes immediately dropped to the sliver of flesh presented to her. Quinn chuckled. "Eyes up here, Berry."

Her eyes snapped up to amused hazel as Quinn sat up on the bed. The blanket fell to her feet as she raised her knees up and rested her head on them. "Sleep well?"

Rachel nodded. "I slept very well. Thank you." She walked closer to the bed and sat down. "Did you?"

"Yeah," Quinn sighed, scratching the back of her head.

"I would hope so," Rachel murmured with a grin. "You were sleeping on top of me again."

Quinn's jaw shifted back and forth as she grabbed at a pillow, her eyes firmly locked on Rachel. She picked it up and tossed at Rachel's head.

"Hey!" Rachel squealed, covering her head and ducking just in time. She rose up with a huff, smoothing down her hair. "That could have injured me!"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "You've never had a pillow fight before?"

She reached over to grab the pillow with a thoughtful frown. No, she had never had a pillow fight before. She had never been invited to sleepovers. But she had seen enough movies to know that this was what Quinn had initiated. And a part of her felt oddly welcomed, as if this was some sort of rite of passage and now she was in Quinn's life for good.

Smiling lightly, she picked up the pillow, fluffing it in her hands. Then she lifted it above her head and lunged at Quinn with a war cry. Quinn's eyes widened in surprise as Rachel collapsed on top of her. Rachel straddled her easily, fighting with a giggling Quinn to pin her arms down. "Get over yourself, Berry," Quinn grunted out.

There was a dirty joke about Quinn being under her somewhere in that statement, but Rachel couldn't make her mind concentrate on it as she tried to get a handle on Quinn's hands. She gripped her wrists tightly, pushing forward until Quinn's hands were pinned on either side of her head. Quinn's chest heaved against Rachel's with hardened nipples and a small blush to her cheeks.

It felt like _The Lion King_, this glorious, shining moment of victory and Rachel reasoned this was now Nala felt when she finally got the chance to pin Simba. Her grin split into a cocky one as she stared down at the almost peeved look on Quinn's face.

But then a dark smile that Rachel knew she shouldn't trust appeared on Quinn's face. She shifted, thrusting slowly in a way that made Rachel's eyes widen to saucers.

"Let me go," Quinn purred.

Rachel eyed her suspiciously. "How can I trust you not to hit me with another pillow?"

Her lips stretched even wider into an impish grin that Rachel _definitely_ knew she shouldn't trust. "I won't," Quinn promised, all even white teeth and red lips that Rachel was now focusing on. Her hips pumped forward the barest hint again and Rachel found her grip slacken as she wondered if the two of them could forget the morning breath and make out anyway.

The next thing she knew, her world was turning upside down. She was being lifted, then thrown back onto the bed. Instinct kicked in and she began to grapple for leverage. Her struggle only made Quinn giggle more, which made Rachel's heart flutter by the very sound of it. She took one look at Quinn's tongue gliding along her lower lip as if wrestling turned her on beyond reason and Rachel felt her whole body turn to jelly. Quinn pinned her easily after that with a victorious smile. "Never trust a girl with a pretty smile, Rachel," she crooned smugly, leaning lower until their foreheads touched.

Rachel smiled at the way Quinn nuzzled their noses together in greeting. She couldn't even find it in herself to be upset with the way Quinn turned the tables on her if this was the reward she was getting for it.

"Quinnie, time for breakfast!"

Quinn immediately sprang up from Rachel. She looked like she had seen a ghost as her eyes shifted from Rachel towards the bedroom door where someone was banging on it. Rachel watched, fear beginning to shoot down her spine the more Quinn's shoulders tensed as she walked towards the door. "Coming!" she eventually shouted. The floor creaked under the weight of the retreating form on the other side of the door and Rachel exhaled harshly.

"Was that your mother?" she asked quietly.

Quinn nodded curtly. She turned, took one look at Rachel, then dropped her gaze with a thoughtful frown. "You can use my bathroom. I'll use the bathroom in the hallway, then we can go downstairs to eat breakfast."

"Quinn—"

"And whatever you do, whatever you say, _don't_ say _anything_ about you and me." Quinn looked up at her, fear that wasn't there seconds ago now shining clearly in her eyes. "They don't know, Rachel. And they _can't_ know."

"Quinn—"

"You don't know what they'd do to me," Quinn told her.

Rachel stood from the bed when it was obvious Quinn wasn't going to stop rambling off fear-filled possibilities of what her parents were going to do to her if they found out she was gay. She grabbed both of Quinn's shoulders and drew her closer. "I won't say anything," Rachel told her earnestly, looking her directly in the eye. "If you don't want them to know, then I won't say anything. And I get it, okay? I didn't tell my parents I was gay until a couple of months after I finally admitted it to myself. It's hard. I get it. Just…calm down a little and take a deep breath."

Breath coming in shallow bursts, Quinn forced herself to take a deep breath as she stared down at Rachel. The tendons in her shoulders slackened under Rachel's firm grip and she took another breath. "Thank you," she murmured after a moment.

Rachel loosened her hold on Quinn's shoulders, walking them along her neck. "Want a hug?" she asked.

"I don't really hug," Quinn halfheartedly prefaced as she stepped into Rachel. "But sure."

They hugged briefly before Quinn pulled back, puffing out an overwhelmed breath as she looked Rachel up and down. Her gaze lingered on Rachel's legs distractedly for a moment. "Do you dance?" Quinn asked.

Rachel smiled proudly. "I do, actually. My dads spoiled me in the arts when I was a little girl and I've been dancing ever since. Mostly ballet now, but I've done tap and jazz also."

Quinn nodded absentmindedly at the end of Rachel's ramble. "You have really great legs," she mumbled with a small blush. She immediately turned away after that and walked out of the room.

Stunned, Rachel could do little more than watch her leave. Once the compliment sank in, she smiled bashfully, gaze dipping to watch her toes dig into the carpet as if Quinn was still in the room. She took a deep breath to calm the butterflies battling in her stomach and walked into the bathroom. Quinn hadn't given her a toothbrush and Rachel didn't even know where to begin looking for one. Nonplussed, she began to open all of the drawers under the bathroom sink. To her luck, it was the very last drawer, of course, that had new, packaged tooth brushes in it. She plucked one, peeled the package off and began freshening up.

She spied her dress in the same place she had left it once she was done, and decided not to put it on now. Wearing the same clothes she was wearing last night was not a good way to impress Quinn's parents. Though, she wondered if it was even possible to impress such people. Quinn wasn't an impressionable teenager by any means, so Rachel could only guess that she had gotten her disposition from her parents.

She was walking back into the room when a knock on the door followed by a muffled, "Rachel," caught her attention. "Are you decent?"

Rachel walked over to the door and opened it. Quinn was standing on the other side, looking refreshed with her hair thrown atop her head in a messy bun. "Good morning," she mumbled courteously as if they hadn't just seen each other ten minutes ago. "I told my parents you're here. As a friend," she continued pointedly. "Breakfast is ready if—shit!" Her head drooped in disappointment before she looked back up at Rachel sullenly.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked in concern.

"You're vegan," Quinn sighed. "And there's an abundance of eggs and bacon downstairs."

Rachel's eyes widened in surprise that Quinn had actually remembered and the fact that she herself had actually forgotten. "Oh," she murmured. Then she waved Quinn off, saying, "It's alright. I'll just call my dads." Maybe this was a sign. A sign that she didn't need to spend a prolonged period of time with Quinn's parents. "I'll just go call them now." She spun around and turned away from Quinn to walk towards the nightstand beside Quinn's bed.

Quinn walked further into the room and closed the door. "Are you sure?"

Rachel just nodded as she flipped her phone open and scrolled through her contacts for Hiram's number.

"I'm sorry this keeps happening," Quinn muttered. "I don't have any vegan friends, really."

Rachel paused, flipping her phone shut and lying it on the bed. She turned to Quinn and grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers. "It's not a big deal, Quinn," she assured. "I don't expect you to suddenly have vegan friendly meals in your house on the off chance that I'll spend the night here with you after we both drank at a party. It's fine, I promise."

Quinn stared down at their joined hands with a sigh. "Did you have fun last night?" she inquired, not meeting Rachel's eyes.

"I did. Though, the most fun I had was when it was just us," Rachel admitted with a dimpled smile.

Quinn looked up at her, no doubt assessing the truthfulness of Rachel's statement. "Yeah?"

Rachel nodded. She scooted closer, her gaze flicking along Quinn's face. Her tongue swiped over her lower lip nervously. "Do you remember last night?" Rachel asked tentatively.

Hazel eyes narrowed minutely, lips down turning as Quinn muttered, "Yeah, a little."

Rachel throat bobbed with a tight swallow. She couldn't be sure, but her instincts were telling her Quinn wasn't being completely truthful. But if that were the case then that meant Quinn didn't want to have this conversation. She didn't know whether to proceed or back off, but she had never been good at retreating when all signs pointed to doing just that.

"Do you remember what you said to me before we both fell asleep on Noah's bed?" she ventured further.

Quinn pulled her hand away with a humorless chuckle, rubbing it along the back of her neck. Her bottom jaw dropped as if she were about to formulate some type of response before someone knocked on the door murderously.

"Quinn, come eat breakfast! You know how ornery you get when you haven't had a balanced meal."

Rachel tilted her head towards the door, amusement swirling in her eyes as she looked towards Quinn's furious blush of embarrassment.

"Okay, mom!" Quinn growled, rising from the bed to stomp towards the door with tense shoulders.

"And bring your friend, too!"

The statement reminded Rachel that she couldn't eat here and she picked up her forgotten phone, gesturing towards Quinn to hold on while she dialed Hiram's number.

Quinn cracked the door open enough to poke her head out. "She can't eat what's down there," Rachel heard her tell Mrs. Fabray. "She's vegan."

"Like a vegetarian, dear?"

Rachel rolled her eyes in amusement. "Hi, dad," she greeted once the line clicked over. "Yes, I'm ready now. She was wonderful—no, we—" she looked up to where Mrs. Fabray was still at the door. "Nothing happened," Rachel hissed into the phone. "I can't talk about this now. I'll see you later when you pick me up. Bye, dad."

She flipped her phone closed and stood up from the bed. She took a deep breath, determined to make this meeting go as smoothly as possible as she walked up to Quinn.

Quinn opened the door to let them both out and Rachel smiled widely at the woman before them. Quinn was the spitting image of her mother. Mrs. Fabray had blonde hair that lightened so much in places it was almost gray. Her eyebrows were carefully manicured and seemed to have a mind of their own like Quinn's as they rose along the woman's crinkling forehead. Her lips were full and red, curling into a familiar smile that Rachel always saw on Quinn's face. "Good morning, Mrs. Fabray," Rachel greeted warmly. "I'm Rachel Berry. Thank you for allowing me to stay in your home last night. Quinn is a good friend." She was throwing out all kinds of compliments and good manners that seemed to please Mrs. Fabray as she looked from Quinn to Rachel again.

"Call me Judy, dear," was the first thing she told Rachel. "And it's so very nice to meet you. I didn't know Quinn had _any_ friends with manners."

Quinn scoffed quietly, crossing her arms like a defiant teenager under her mother's gaze. She looked so cute and uncharacteristically chastened that it made Rachel smile.

"Now, Quinn tells me you can't eat here," Judy continued. "Something about being a vegetarian."

"Vegan," Rachel gently corrected. "Though, they're very similar." At the blank look on Judy's face, Rachel decided to spare her the lecture on the difference between them tickling the back of her throat and settled on, "But don't fret. My father will be here soon, and I can just eat when I get home."

Judy frowned. "Well, at least join us at the breakfast table, Rachel." She turned to Quinn, muttering, "Why didn't you tell me she was vegan?"

"It's not like we knew ahead of time she would be spending the night!" Quinn defended as they began walking down the hallway.

Rachel followed behind, noting their similarities and differences along the way. Quinn's parents didn't seem so bad. Well, at least her mother didn't. Maybe a little on the insincere side, but nothing too incriminating.

They walked down the stairs and sitting at the head of the table was who Rachel assumed was Mr. Fabray. He was very blonde also with wisps of graying hair that made him look distinguished instead of old. He was a handsome man with a pretty wife who created the beautiful daughter Rachel was in love with. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at how perfect they all looked.

"Good morning," Mr. Fabray called loudly, voice booming with authority in the way Quinn's always did when she wanted attention and respect. "I'm Russell, dear. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Rachel Berry," Rachel greeted as she walked over to him. "It's nice to meet you, sir. What a lovely home you have."

Judy took a seat at the other end of the table and Quinn sat on in the seat closest to her in one of the side chairs. Rachel hesitantly sat beside Quinn, feeling a little uneasy about being so close to who was obviously the head Fabray in charge.

"No need to be nervous, dear. I don't bite," Russell told her as he reached for her hand.

Confused, Rachel slowly gave her hand to him, jumping nervously when Quinn grabbed her other one.

"We're saying grace," Quinn explained with a small chuckle at the perplexed look on Rachel's face. She nodded in understanding a moment later and bowed her head, clenching her eyes shut as Russell said a prayer.

Afterwards, they all began eating, except Quinn who just stared at Rachel, then looked back down at her plate.

Rachel turned to watch the frown on Quinn's face and offered a small smile. "You can eat, Quinn. I'm fine."

"You don't like breakfast food?" Russell asked conversationally.

Rachel shook her head. "The meal smells lovely and I'm sure it tastes just the same," she assured. "It's just…I'm a vegan."

"Ah," he murmured, looking down at his plate. "Well, I suppose you can't eat anything here," he continued with a hearty laugh.

Rachel joined in with him and shook her head with a small smile. "Not even a bite."

"So, Rachel, it's my understanding that you and Quinn attend the same school," Judy said from downwind. Rachel turned to find her breaking apart a slice of bacon into dainty bits to put in her mouth. "Why am I just seeing you?"

"Mom," Quinn admonished.

"Quinn and I have just started this…friendship," Rachel said carefully. "We've been getting to know each other, and I've learned that she is a wonderful person."

"I like her," Russell asserted, gesturing in Rachel's direction with his fork. "I like her a lot better than those other cheerleaders Quinn hangs out with. What are their names—Whitney and Sarah?"

Rachel smiled in amusement.

"I think their names are Bridgette and Samantha," Judy guessed.

"Their names are _Brittany_ and _Santana_," Quinn growled. "Can't even get their names right."

"Watch your tone, Quinn," Judy warned offhandedly.

Quinn slumped back in her seat, jaw clenched in irritation. Rachel nudged her knee with her own under the table. She flashed a small, reassuring smile when Quinn looked over at her.

"Well, I like you better," Russell said again. He sat up in this seat, placing his elbows on the table as he angled towards Rachel. "The thing is, Rachel, I've been telling Quinn to get some new friends for a while now."

From beside Rachel, Quinn shot straight up, aghast as she stared her father down. "This isn't the time or the place to discuss this." She gestured towards Rachel. "She's a _guest_, daddy."

"One that I'd like to see around more often." He dismissed Quinn and looked back over to Rachel. "Santana and Brittany are lovely girls, I'm sure. But from what I've seen of them hasn't shown me that. Santana is rude and slothful."

"With such a foul mouth," Judy contributed.

Rachel shrugged a shoulder, wishing she could take up for her new friend, but, in a nutshell, that was what Santana was eighty percent of the time.

"And that other one—she's nice," he allowed. "Not the sharpest tool in the shed, though." He cleared his throat, looking directly at Rachel. "But my biggest concern is how…gay they are," he stated bluntly. "Quinn has a lot of gay friends."

"Two," Quinn cut in sharply. "They're only two friends that I have who are gay."

Rachel slunk in her seat under Russell's critical gaze, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Surely them being gay has no bearing on how great they can be as friends."

Russell waved it off. "No, of course not. As I said, I'm sure they're wonderful people despite the fact that they have yet to show that to me. But it's nice to see that Quinn has friends outside of those two."

"They're just very…affectionate," Judy tried, looking towards Rachel. "All the time. Which is fine," she assured. "But we don't want our Quinnie to get the wrong idea."

Rachel blinked in shock at everything that was being said. Her wide, disbelieving eyes whirled around to find Quinn slumped back in her chair, arms folded across her chest as she glared down at her half-eaten meal.

"Thank you, dear," Russell said. "What we're trying to say is that we're glad that Quinn has friends who are…" he trailed off.

"Who are not gay," Rachel supplied for the now seemingly prudish man. She pushed out a humorless laugh.

"Exactly." He nodded, signaling the end of the conversation. "Maybe you can help Quinn get a boyfriend," he joked after a moment.

Both Quinn and Rachel stiffened at the passing comment. Rachel turned towards him, feeling overwhelming anger and resentment swirl in her stomach until it ached. She was beginning to feel alone in this large house with two bigoted parents of a girl who could do little more than agree with whatever they said.

"Oh, and prom is just around the corner!" Judy conjured up out of nowhere.

"It's over a year away," Rachel responded with, trying to keep her voice light and charming as her anger continued to mount. Quinn seemed to wither in the seat she was in, not engaging anyone in conversation as she forked over the cold food on her plate.

"You can never be too prepared," Judy insisted. "Don't forget to vote Quinn for prom queen."

"Mom, don't," Quinn finally interjected.

"Don't what, dear? Don't get votes for you to win? Don't you want to win?"

The conversation was turning ugly fast and the only thing Rachel wanted to do was hide away in Quinn's room until her father arrived.

"I don't want to talk about this," Quinn gritted out forcefully.

Judy eyed her critically for a long moment. Quinn avoided her gaze, sitting forward in her seat to take a sip of her apple juice then sitting back again.

"Well, Rachel, what do you think about prom?" Judy prodded. "Are you going to take your boyfriend with you to prom next year?"

She was absolutely fed up with this conversation. It took her several months to become even halfway comfortable with her sexuality and she felt like Judy and Russell were sitting there beating her back into the closet with their intolerance. Her fingers trembled as they held fast to the kitchen table, the urge to shoot up and storm away from the table building inside of her with each passing second. "No, I will not," Rachel said, an edge creeping into her voice at the thought of how hard she had fought to get this comfortable with herself and how it was all crumbling down while Quinn was practically hugging herself in discomfort at the breakfast table. "I broke up with my most recent boyfriend months ago because…I'm gay," she stated plainly, heart pounding in her chest at the deafening silence that followed.

At Judy's muted gasp of surprise, Quinn turned to Rachel, jaw hanging limply in shock. Rachel grimaced at the palpable tension in the room and excused herself from the table. She quickly walked up the stairs and into Quinn's room, shutting the door behind her as if that was going to keep anyone out who wanted to get in.

She sat atop Quinn's bed, back ramrod straight and hands firmly clasped in her lap. At any movement she felt like she would shatter, the uneven breaths she kept inhaling sounding shallow. Tears would be flowing soon; she could feel the pressure building behind her eyes and all the while she wondered where the hell her father was.

Her chest heaved irregularly with gasping breaths. It felt like someone had taken out her stomach and that her lungs were lodging themselves in her throat. She couldn't feel her heart anymore, but guessed it must have still been beating somewhere inside of her because she was still alive.

This was the first group of non-supportive people she had come out to and she felt like _hell_ because she knew they were all judging her downstairs while Quinn mutedly listened, not once standing up for her.

The door creaked open and Rachel honestly didn't know whether to be happy or sad that Quinn was closing the door, locking it and rushing to her side. Quinn scooped up a boneless Rachel with ease, shushing sobs that Rachel hadn't realized until now she was crying. Her face fell into the crook of Quinn's neck as if it belonged there and she inhaled the scent of lavender body wash along with the uneven breaths she couldn't seem to regulate.

"Calm down," Quinn murmured, rubbing up and down Rachel's back. "It's okay."

"It's _not_ okay," Rachel sobbed, feeling a déjà vu moment of when she had cried those exact words to Finn when she had come out to him. If it was possible, this moment felt even more devastating because telling the parents of the girl she loved that she was gay didn't really bode well for spending more time with Quinn.

Quinn grabbed her and pulled her away. Whimpering at the loss of contact, Rachel looked up at her with a thick swallow of emotions cascading down her throat and into the pit of her stomach where digesting them was going to be a hell of a time.

Quinn rubbed a thumb under her eye like a windshield wiper until all of her tears were gone. Her jaw clenched as she looked all around Rachel's face before looking away. "I really wish none of that just happened."

"Are you mad at me?" Rachel couldn't help but ask with an incredulous tone to her voice.

"I'm not mad at you," Quinn said. "But this whole situation was just…" she trailed off, shaking her head when she didn't know how to continue. "I'm sorry."

Rachel sighed heavily, pitching forward to rest her forehead on Quinn's shoulder. "That was the first time I've ever told anyone who wasn't a friend that I was gay."

"And it sucked," Quinn guessed astutely. "I'm sorry. But that's just…how they are. Which is why I don't want to tell them that I'm gay."

Rachel pulled back, sitting up on her own to make eye contact with Quinn. "But you're going to have to eventually."

"Not right now," was all Quinn told her.

"But eventually—"

"Rachel, can we not talk about this?" Quinn asked her in this thin, strangled mess of a voice.

Her lips clamped shut with finality. Feeling wholly defeated, Rachel stood up from the bed.

"Where are you going?" Quinn called from behind her.

Rachel kept walking towards the bathroom, her bottom lip jutting outward with each step she took. She closed the door and locked it behind her, learning that trick from Quinn. Doors were hardly ever locked at her house because it was such an honest and open atmosphere. But what she had come to learn in the past several hours from the party onwards was that Quinn locked doors wherever she went in an attempt to hide her own actions.

It baffled Rachel that someone went to such great lengths to hide such an essential part of themselves. But then she took one look at herself in the mirror, wearing Quinn's clothes, and found that she couldn't walk about and act like she and Quinn were so different.

She stripped herself and put her own dress back on, feeling stifled in this house and wanting nothing more than to leave. She jumped when the doorknob to the bathroom jiggled with impatience.

"Your father is here," Quinn called from the other side of the door.

Rachel fumbled to unlock the door, wanting to get home as soon as she could. She opened it to find Quinn standing on the other side, shoulders tensed with hands twitching at her sides. They stared at each other for a moment like they were seeing each other for the first time. And for all the times that Rachel had forgotten that Quinn was just a girl at the end of the day, just like her, the lost look on her face reminded her of that. After a few painstaking seconds of neither of them saying anything, Quinn walked away towards her bed. She sat down, resting her elbows on her knees and cradling her head in her hands.

Rachel walked further into the room, staring at Quinn's stoic figure on the bed. There was nothing she could think to say. This entire morning had turned into a disaster the moment she met Quinn's parents. She felt rattled to her very core and really just needed to be home right now more than anything. She didn't have reassuring words or gentle murmurs. All she had right now were fully functioning tear ducts that were beginning to make themselves known again.

She walked over to the bed and picked up her phone from beside Quinn. She watched the way Quinn flinched and drew away from her with a frown. With a sigh, Rachel swiped up her phone and turned sharply towards the door.

"So, I guess you don't like me anymore," Quinn accused from across the room. "Because of what my parents said."

Her shoulders pulled taut as soon as that statement left Quinn's mouth. How Quinn could think so little of her feelings, Rachel would never understand. But she was tired, needed a good cry on her fathers' shoulders and probably some tea, and couldn't deal with this right now. "Have a good day, Quinn," Rachel called wearily, closing the door behind her and wondering if Quinn was going to lock it.


	22. Chapter 22

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

* * *

><p>Leroy and Hiram stared worriedly at their unresponsive daughter sitting across the table from them. Rachel hadn't spoken a word since they had picked her up with tears old and new marring her face, and she wasn't much better now. The hysterical sobs had stopped but fresh tears still ran down her face as she eyed both of her fathers then looked away with a frown.<p>

Hiram scratched at his chin, looking over towards Leroy.

Leroy shrugged, and Hiram rolled his eyes.

"Do we say something to her?"

"We tried that," Leroy said from the side of his mouth. They had watched her in silence for five minutes and Hiram's worry was beginning to mount. Rachel was talkative, almost _too_ talkative sometimes, and her silence was making him uneasy. Usually her rare bouts of silence meant that something was really wrong, and her thoughts were too jumbled for her to actually explain herself properly. The only sounds that Rachel had made in the last several minutes were little sniffles here and there.

"I'm calling the paramedics," Hiram announced.

"Now, now hold on. I don't think we should do that just yet."

"Well, we can't just _not_ do anything," he hissed.

"Give her time. She's like a volcano—look at her shaking. She can't keep silent for long."

Rachel shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny. "I can hear you," she grumbled after a moment. She folded her arms across her chest, lips pursing in annoyance at this whole situation she had found herself in.

"Ah, she speaks," Hiram cajoled. "Rally the troops, Leroy; I think it's time for our princess to take a prance around the mansion."

"It's not funny," she continued.

Their lifting moods dropped once again at the sight of their daughter not even cracking a smile at the joke. Leroy leaned back, eying his daughter critically as he crossed his leg over his knee.

"Are you going to tell us what happened?" Hiram coaxed.

Rachel's breath hitched at the question. She scrubbed a hand down her face in frustration, glaring through the table as she whispered, "I came out to Quinn's parents this morning before you arrived."

Leroy turned sharply to Hiram, his once in-check emotions now showing clearly in the widening of his eyes. Hiram didn't look much better as he turned from Leroy back over to Rachel. "I assume it didn't go well," he hedged with a soft voice.

"They wouldn't stop!" Rachel suddenly exploded, shocking both Hiram and Leroy back further into their seats. She wiped furiously at her eyes before setting them on both of her fathers. "They kept going on and on about how much they hate the fact that Quinn has gay friends!"

"Gee, I wonder what having gay friends says about their daughter," Hiram bit out sarcastically at the bigotry of the Fabrays Rachel was recounting. It only took one statement from his daughter to rile him up and he was two seconds away from grabbing the car keys, driving to the Fabray house and giving Quinn's parents a piece of his mind.

Rachel nodded enthusiastically, glad _someone_ understood her. "Right?"

Leroy rubbed his chin in concern as he watched the back and forth exchange of Rachel and Hiram. "So, what was Quinn doing during all of this?"

At the mere mention of Quinn, Rachel deflated back into the seat. "She just kind of sat there," she muttered.

"Looking uncomfortable," Leroy guessed.

She dipped her head solemnly, recalling the blank look on Quinn's face up until the point where Rachel came out to her parents. Her angered shifted the barest hint into sympathy for her not-really girlfriend during the whole situation.

"Let me get this straight," Leroy continued. "You go to Quinn's house, come out to her intolerant-to-gays parents…and then leave."

Hiram turned to Leroy. "I don't much care for your tone."

Rachel didn't speak.

"Our daughter put that girl in an awkward position with her family."

Her eyes blazed defiantly as she looked up to Leroy. "Daddy—"

"Sweetheart, I love you. And I admire the pride that you have in yourself and your undying bravery," Leroy assured. "However, what you did wasn't cool."

Immediately, Rachel rose from her seat, bracing her hands on the table in an attempt to be seen and heard because Leroy was just not getting it. "B-but they kept saying all of these offensive things!" she cried. "They acted as if gay people didn't make good friends, and after they had complimented my manners, I thought I could show that one could still be respectful _and_ gay! And I thought I could show Quinn that coming out wasn't so bad," Rachel insisted.

"And you did well, honey," Hiram told her.

Leroy looked between the two of them, completely undeterred as his eyes fell on Rachel evenly again. "You said that you wanted to show Quinn that coming out wasn't so bad. Yet when we picked you up, you looked like you had been crying for a while."

"Leroy—"

"So, maybe all you managed to show her was that coming out would be awkward and full of tears," Leroy continued calmly.

"Leroy, don't berate her," Hiram cut in.

"I'm not." He turned to find Rachel slumping back in her seat, wiping at her eyes. Reaching across the table, he grabbed her hands, gently grasping them when Rachel halfheartedly tried to pull away. "Rach, honey, what I'm trying to get you to understand is that you can't just selfishly sacrifice someone's comfort like that for your own agenda. You came out to two people then came home and cried to your gay fathers. Assuming Quinn is a lesbian—"

"She said she thinks she is," Rachel said softly.

Leroy nodded sympathetically. "See? She doesn't even seem one hundred percent sure yet. She's still adjusting to all of this. And she's the only gay person living with intolerant parents after you came out to them. She's gotta deal with that by herself now, honey."

Her breath kept hitching as she recalled the look on Quinn's face, the way Quinn flinched away from her right before she left. When Rachel recalled the lost tone in Quinn's voice when she spoke those last words to her, she could feel new tears build in her eyes and spill over. What had she done?

Her jaw dropped completely in horror as she recalled just what Quinn had said to her, what it really meant, and how she had completely played into the one insecurity Quinn had had about their relationship this whole time.

Rachel rose from the table immediately, looking like a woman on a mission as she grabbed her phone and walked away without a word. She took the stairs quickly, walking to her room and slamming the door shut. Her fingers fumbled with the keypad of her phone, scrolling for Quinn's number and pressing the call button.

Once it made it past the third ring, Rachel knew she wasn't going to pick up. With a heavy sigh, her posture slackened with exhaustion as the line clicked over to the voicemail.

"Hi, Quinn," she murmured into the phone, feeling wholly unprepared to leave a nice, detailed message. "I was just calling to see if you were okay." Her mind was quickly spiraling, conjuring up all possibilities of how she had messed up and how it was now all over, even though this was only a phone call. Self-preservation was beginning to kick in, telling her to make this message short before she ended up blubbering out her soul to Quinn. "Call me, okay? I hope to hear from you soon," she finished weakly. "Bye, Quinn."

She hung up the phone, biting her lip as she stared at it on her bed. Then she picked it up, chastising herself for how little care was in the voicemail as she composed a text message for Quinn.

_**Hi, Quinn, it's Rachel. Again. I thought it pertinent that we talk soon after everything that's happened. I really hope to hear from you soon.**_

The message didn't feel like enough. _Nothing_ did, and all she wanted to do was tack _I_ _love_ _you_ onto the end of that message to make Quinn see once and for all that this was real. But this moment wasn't right. It wasn't romantic. And if Quinn really was done with her after everything that happened like the niggling thought in the back of her mind was telling her, then spilling her guts would only hurt her in the end.

She sent the text message, exhaling loudly into her empty room. Quinn was probably over her. What had she been thinking? All she wanted to do was prove to the Fabrays that not all gay people were bad, and…she possibly ruined what was turning out to be the best relationship she never thought she'd have.

Five minutes passed without an answer and Rachel was going stir crazy. Her hand unclenched from around her phone and she quickly typed out a message to send to Finn, biting her bottom lip as she read over it.

_**I think I messed up.**_

It was so…unlike her. She didn't _mess_ up. She wasn't perfect by any means, but she never made social faux-pas like this. And certainly not at the expense of someone she loved so dearly. Yet here she was, sending this message to Finn Hudson of all people because if anyone was used to messing up on Quinn's behalf, it was their shared ex-boyfriend.

Her phone buzzed with a message several seconds later and the simplicity of it made her crack the first smile in hours, since she was pinned under Quinn on her bed.

_**umm did you sing a note wrong or something?**_

And for once, she actually wished she had. Singing one note off key was a fate far fairer than pissing off, _hurting_ Quinn Fabray, because an angry Quinn and a hurt Quinn were two completely different things and Rachel's heart ached at the thought of inadvertently hurting her.

_**I think I've lost Quinn.**_

Her heart clenched in anguish at the text message. And it made her realize that maybe she had had Quinn this whole time. Because the antithesis of the last couple of months of heated kisses and hand holding was…this. Nothing. This emptiness that she was beginning to feel was becoming unbearable because it had been ten minutes and Quinn hadn't responded to her voicemail or text message.

But Finn was rapidly firing off texts in a timely fashion. She opened the most recent one and had the urge to face palm. Hard.

_**in the mall?**_

_**Figuratively, Finn. I did something and I think she's upset with me.**_

A tear slid down her cheek. She couldn't turn her brain off and it kept telling her that Quinn was upset, that she had left Quinn alone to deal with the aftermath that she created. And then, _then_ when all Quinn needed from her was reassurance that they were still okay, she _left_ her there and went home to cry.

She choked out a sob just as her phone rang and scrambled to see if it was Quinn calling.

It was Finn, however.

She sighed and answered the call, her voice a garbled mess. "Hi, Finn."

"You don't sound so good."

"Well," she corrected gently. "And I'm _not_ well, Finn. What if Quinn wants nothing to do with me? What if I've scared her back into the closet?" That thought caused a whole slew of thoughts to slam into her mind. "Oh, _no_, what if she starts dating Noah?"

"Whoa, whoa, Rach, calm down," Finn soothed. "What the hell happened?"

"I came out to her _parents_; that's what happened!" she exclaimed. "I told her parents that I was gay, then just _left_ Quinn there after she asked me if my feelings for her changed because of how bigoted and small minded her parents are!"

"Okay, I—slow down. Bigoted is a bad thing, right?"

Rachel groaned in exasperation. "Yes, Finn, it's bad. _Please_ keep up."

"I'm trying!" he insisted. "Stop using big words. Okay. So. Anyway. You told Quinn's parents you were gay. I got that. What's this whole feelings thing about?"

She plopped down on her back, staring at the ceiling morosely. "Finn, I just walked away," she whispered. "She asked me if my feelings had changed for her—actually, she assumed I didn't care for her anymore because of what her parents said. And I-I was supposed to—but she already knows, Finn," she babbled, unable to express her coinciding thoughts successfully. "She _knows_, or at least she should know by now how I feel about her."

"How _do _you feel about her?" Finn asked suddenly.

She recoiled at the question, brow furrowing in incomprehension. "What do you mean?"

"How do you feel about her?" he asked again.

"I love her," Rachel replied easily.

"Okay, so that's good. But Quinn's like, a total chick when it comes to things like that."

She grimaced at how offensive the comment sounded, but patiently asked, "What does that even _mean_, Finn?"

"It means that she's insecure. I can't tell you how many times a day I had to tell her I loved her. That's crazy, you know? She should have just believed me."

"But you cheated on her," Rachel whispered to herself a moment later. She slapped a hand to her forehead. "You always told her you loved her, but after a few months you cheated on her, Finn."

"Hey, are you blaming me? 'Cause that's not my fault or anything. You were the one making picnics for me and stuff."

"This is unbelievable." She sat up on the bed, combing her fingers through her hair. It felt just as tattered and strained as she did. And she wanted more than anything to take a warm shower, curl into bed, and hear from Quinn sometime soon.

All the signs had been pointing her towards _not_ doing the things she had done. Quinn had warned her about her parents before they had even gone downstairs. But it had gotten to the point where Rachel _couldn't_ keep silent anymore. She felt that she had to speak on behalf of herself and her fathers because they were all good people and the Fabrays didn't know what they were talking about.

But leaving things the way she did was what she regretted most of all. Brittany had told her months ago how suspicious Quinn was of other people because no one had ever liked her for who she was, only the power and popularity she wielded over others. And the fact that Finn had cheated on her with Rachel of all people probably didn't help matters in the slightest.

"Rach?" Finn called out to her. "You still there?"

"Yeah," she murmured. "I'm here. And I—thanks, Finn."

"Sorry she's mad at you. But I mean, if you apologize she'll forgive you. Eventually."

She chuckled sadly. "Yeah, okay. I just didn't want to have to start from the bottom all over again."

"Quinn's just a lot more sensitive than people realize," he told her.

"Yeah, well, thanks, Finn. I think I'm going to go now. I'll see you Monday."

"See you then."

She hung up the phone with a sigh, standing up from the bed to take a shower.

After she finished all of her homework and prepared for bed, she crawled under her covers, feeling completely drained. But she couldn't sleep, and didn't sleep for hours.

When midnight rolled around and she was still awake, Rachel turned to her phone one last time to find that she had no missed calls, or text messages.

* * *

><p>"Quinn? Hi, it's Rachel. Again. I'm worried and I really need you to call me, okay? Please? It's been an entire day—just talk to me. I-I hope to hear from you soon. Bye, Quinn."<p>

* * *

><p>The week should have just began on Tuesdays, because Mondays were asking for too much.<p>

Rachel had serious bags under her eyes that were a force to be reckoned with. She pulled on them as she stared into the mirror in her locker. She looked how she felt. Like complete, utter shit.

She wondered if glee club would successfully improve her mood today as she made quick work of grabbing her books and slammed her locker shut. From down the hallway, Kurt was sashaying towards her and the sight only made her tired.

"Good morning, Miss Popular!" Kurt exclaimed as he walked towards her. "How's your weekend been?"

She shot him a dry look and combined with the bags under her eyes, it scared Kurt entirely. "What turned your golden carriage into a pumpkin?" he grumbled.

Rachel clutched her books tightly to her and leaned back against the lockers. "I don't want to talk about it." The school at large looked exactly the same. All of the couples walked around proudly hand in hand in a way that made Rachel's eyes narrow in discontent.

"Did something bad happen?" Kurt asked, drawing her eyes back over to him.

Her shoulders shrugged helplessly as she stared up at him. "Define bad."

Kurt slapped a hand to his forehead. "Rachel Berry, what did you do?"

"Nothing!" she insisted, though guilt had been festering inside of her since Saturday.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but Rachel quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side as Quinn, Santana, and Brittany walked down the hallway. To anyone who took the time to notice, Quinn's shoulders were tense today instead of naturally rolled back like they always were. Her eyes were pinched tightly together and her gaze remained forward the entire way, not once veering off into Rachel's direction as she walked pass. That was always her tell, and Rachel groaned in frustration at not being acknowledged as Quinn walked past her.

"Well, that wasn't very nice," Kurt mumbled as the two of them watched the Cheerios walk away. Rachel ignored Kurt's rapid fire questions as she stared down the hallway at Quinn stopping by her locker.

Heart thudding against her ribs, she patted Kurt's shoulder absentmindedly in an attempt to simultaneously get him to shut up and to tell him that she would see him later.

"You better tell me what's going on later!" he called after her.

Rachel inhaled a deep breath as she clutched her books tighter to her. She felt nervous to be talking to Quinn. It felt like the beginning of the school year all over again when Quinn would antagonize her whenever they crossed paths. Her gait shortened to tiny steps the closer she got to Quinn who looked beautifully angry as she roughly pulled books out of her locker. Rachel stopped just off to Quinn's side, eying her tensed shoulders. "Hi, Quinn," she greeted tentatively.

Quinn pursed her lips, not once glancing in Rachel's direction as she continued to swap her books.

Rachel nodded, not really surprised by the cold shoulder that was being presented to her. She licked her lips nervously, clearing her throat as she looked up at Quinn again. She looked so untouchable in this moment, like she was miles away instead of inches in front of her and the emotional distance was becoming intimidating. "I was wondering if we could talk."

If it were possible, tensed pale shoulders seemed to lock up further as Quinn's entire body went rigid. She held her position for a few tense seconds, then slammed her locker shut. Various trinkets inside could be heard falling from off of her locker door by the sheer force of the way she slammed it. Quinn hoisted her books into her folded arms and walked away from Rachel without a word.

Rachel watched helplessly as Quinn strutted down the hallway and turned the corner. Her feet were firmly rooted to the ground, petrified in fear. Then Kurt was there, wiping the tears away she didn't even know she was crying. "Girl," he muttered, face contorting into what resembled sympathy as he grabbed her shoulders. "What could have possibly happened between the party and now?"

"I lost her," Rachel whimpered. "She's gone, Kurt."

He rubbed her shoulder soothingly. "It can't be that bad."

"It _is_," Rachel cried.

He attempted to pull her closer, but squirmed away at the last second, nodding towards the jacket he had on. "This is leather, girl. You don't like it and I don't like tears _on_ it." He spun her around and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Come on. Let's go get you cleaned up. Can't have you looking like crap and Quinn looking like a stone statue goddess."

Rachel cracked a small smile that hurt more than anything and allowed Kurt to lead her to the ladies' restroom.


	23. Chapter 23

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

**A/N: **Hi! Just wanted to say that this fic should be over soon. I'm thinking maybe three to five more chapters. Just a heads up. And as always, thank you for your reviews!

* * *

><p>It wasn't often that Rachel felt defeat. In fact, it was so uncommon that it was rare. But as she trudged up the driveway to her house with her chin tipped downwards to stare at her penny loafers beating into the concrete petulantly, she felt pretty damn defeated.<p>

She reached the house and walked in the doorway as Hiram held the door open for her. He frowned at the sight of her as she carelessly tossed her school bag across the table and sat down. Rachel slumped down in the seat, folding her arms tightly across her chest. Her tear ducts had gone out of service long ago, so she was reduced to glaring holes through things to show her upset.

"Quinn's still not talking to you, sweetheart?" Hiram asked as he sat down beside her.

Rachel's head lolled to the side to face him. "Dad, what's this love thing all about?" she whined.

He smiled, mildly amused at the pout pulling her lips downwards. "I would say it's about never having to say you're sorry, but I've been living long enough to know that's a lie."

Her frown deepened, and Hiram wrapped an arm around her and tugged her closer. "But let me tell you something." He grabbed her chin and made her look up to the stern expression on his face. "I don't want you to think that just because what you did at the Fabray's house was bad that you being proud of yourself is bad."

Rachel smiled weakly and shook her head. "I don't think that I'm a bad person, dad," she assured. "And I don't think that being gay is bad. But if-if that's what it's going to be like every time I come out, then—"

"Don't think that," he said softly. "You can't stop being you or proud of you just because there are some homophobic people in this world, Rachel."

She nodded. "Yeah, I get that, but—"

"No buts," Hiram said firmly. "Now—" He smiled at her and stood from his seat. "Come with me into the living room."

Looking positively bewildered, Rachel stood from her chair and followed Hiram into the living room. She sat on the couch as Hiram walked over to the radio in the corner of the room and started fiddling with it. He looked back over to Rachel with a wide grin. "This is the song I play when I'm having a bad day."

He pressed play, and the lyrics that wafted through the air made Rachel laugh the hardest she had laughed in days.

"_Don't let the sun go down on me_."

"I think this song is oddly appropriate, dad," she told him with a quiet smile.

Hiram walked over to the couch and sat down beside her. "Amazing what music can do."

"That's why I love it so much."

He smiled. "You picked a fine thing to love."

* * *

><p>A hand reached out and quickly slammed her locker door shut. Rachel jumped back with a yelp, clutching a fist to her heart as she looked to find Santana sneering down at her. Behind her was Brittany with her arms folded across her chest, looking concerned as her eyes darted between the two.<p>

"Good morning," Rachel huffed in annoyance. The last couple of days had been hard and she certainly didn't feel like dealing with whatever bad mood had crawled up Santana's ass this morning. "I do not know, nor do I wish to know what issue you have with me this morning." She forcefully pushed back an errant lock of hair from her eyes as she stared up at Santana. "I also am not having a good morning, so please spare me whatever putrid insults you've decided to hurl my way because you seem to have forgotten the friendship we have recently fostered, and—"

"Shut up, Berry," Santana barked out. Her left hand found her hip as she leaned down closer. It was an intimidation tactic that Rachel knew Santana got from Quinn, and it wasn't working. "What the hell did you do to Q?"

She recoiled at the question, but recovered quickly to stand tall. Which wasn't _very_ tall by any means, but tall enough to let Santana know that she wasn't going to take any of her shit. "I haven't done _anything_ to Quinn," Rachel insisted, though guilt churned in her stomach. She really, _really_ needed to talk to Quinn soon. But Quinn wasn't being the most responsive person right now and it was becoming increasingly intimidating to even be in the same room with her, this impenetrable force that Rachel felt like she would never get through to again.

"_Look_," Santana instructed plaintively as she extended her leg. Rachel looked down to find a white bandage wrapped around an inflamed knee. She winced in sympathy as Santana drew her leg back.

"What happened?" Rachel asked tentatively.

"Your _girlfriend_ made us run laps for _hours_ yesterday," Santana growled.

Her heart fluttered stupidly at yet another person referring to Quinn as her girlfriend. Then concern gripped her again as her eyes darted from Brittany back to Santana again. "I'm really sorry about your knee," Rachel murmured. "But I fail to see what this has to do with me. You look like you're doing well, Brittany," Rachel said to her.

"I'm pretty limber," Brittany said with a smile and a shrug.

"And she has like, crazy large lungs," Santana added.

Brittany nodded. "I can hold my breath for a long time. Santana says it comes in handy when I eat her—"

"_Anyway_," Santana interjected pointedly while Rachel flushed. "The only time Quinn goes crazy like this is when the two of you are fighting." She stared down at Rachel. "Are you guys fighting?"

She crossed her arms over her chest as her bottom lip jutted out. It was a lot more serious than a stupid disagreement between the two of them—the way Santana said made it sound was so…simple. And it _wasn't_. "It's a bit more complicated than that."

"Then _un_-complicate it before I kick your ass!" Santana told her. Brittany grabbed her elbow and tugged a little and Rachel watched as Santana wobbled back a step or two to make room.

"What are you and Quinn fighting about?" Brittany asked softly, completely un-Santana-like as she stepped into the conversation.

Rachel's shoulders slumped at the tone of Brittany's voice. All the fire was gone from inside of her as she stared up into clear blue eyes morosely. She bit her lip, stifling the instinct to pour out all of her problems to friends because that was the type of person she was. It seemed that Quinn hadn't told Brittany and Santana what happened between them and knowing Quinn, she didn't tell them because she didn't want them to know. "I'm not sure if I'm supposed to say. Quinn is very private, and if she hasn't told you what happened then I assume she wants to keep it that way."

Santana waddled over towards them and looked towards Rachel. "Fix it. I don't care what it is. If I have to run a billion laps again today, so help me, Berry—"

"Are you guys not talking?" Brittany asked.

"Not really," Rachel lamented with a small pout. "She's mad at me."

"I knew it!" Santana declared. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" she defended.

Brittany frowned. "Santana, leave her alone." She looked back to Rachel with wide sympathetic eyes and Rachel concluded right then and there that Brittany was her favorite of the couple.

Santana grumbled something under her breath before she turned to walk away. "I'll see you later, Britts. And, Berry? You better fix it." She glared at Rachel one last time, then hobbled down the hallway on her busted knee.

"Don't worry about her," Brittany said with a wry head tilt as she watched Santana to make sure she made it down the hallway safely. "She's just a little worried about Quinn."

Rachel slumped back against her locker with a sigh at how quickly the situation she had found herself in spiraled out of control.

Brittany took a step closer, blonde eyebrows bunching in concern. "Are you okay?"

She looked at Brittany, a small smile tugging at her lips because it felt good to have someone ask how _she_ was doing for once instead of taking Quinn's side on the matter. Not knowing whether to nod or shake her head, she settled for a shoulder shrug because she really didn't know right now. "I just want Quinn to talk to me," she said quietly. "I feel like we're over."

Brittany curled a long arm around her shoulders, pouting sympathetically. "It's just a fight," she said brightly. "Santana and I fight sometimes."

"Really?" Rachel asked warily, fearing it wasn't true. She had never been with a girl before, especially a girl like Quinn whose emotions seemed to range from one extreme to another far too often.

"Of course! Sometimes we stop talking to each other and stuff, but we always make up."

She turned towards Brittany with a small smile. "Well, that's lovely. What do you do to make up?"

"Umm, well, I'm probably not supposed to talk about that," Brittany said, eyes shifting around. "It's private."

How Brittany could go from talking about performing oral on Santana to deeming their sex life as 'private', Rachel didn't know. And she honestly didn't want to know. "I understand. No need continue," she said with a smile.

"You should talk to her," Brittany suggested. "Trust me; Quinn doesn't talk to people when she's upset. That's why it takes her and Santana so long to make up after a fight; they're both stubborn."

She rubbed her lips together as she mulled over Brittany's statement. Everyone was pushing her to talk to Quinn, but none of them understood. "What if she wants nothing to do with me?"

"If you really care about her—"

"I love her," Rachel said softly. It was starting to feel like a pattern. She had been walking around telling everyone that except the one person who needed to hear it.

The smile on Brittany's face told her that she was thinking the same thing.

* * *

><p>Rachel peeled the crust off of her sandwich and neatly placed it into a disposable pile on a napkin. She brought a corner to her mouth and took a bite, eyes rolling back at the taste of hummus that exploded in her mouth. Kurt was across from her, forking through a beef patty as daintily as he could just in case a hot jock was watching him. Which they never were, but one could never be too careful.<p>

She chose to look away from the way Kurt stabbed at the patty on his tray and glanced around the cafeteria. More specifically, she was looking for a familiar Cheerios uniform. There were several crowded at the end of the lunch line. The cheerleaders tended to travel in untouchable packs and couldn't seem to do many things alone. They all parted a moment later and Quinn emerged, tray in hand and walked towards the large table for cool kids at the back of the cafeteria. Rachel could see the scowl on Quinn's face perfectly from where she was sitting as Quinn walked across the cafeteria.

"I'm going to talk to her," Rachel said conspiringly, leaning forward in her seat to address Kurt.

"Who?" Kurt muttered as he stared down at his food.

"Quinn—I'm going to talk to Quinn."

His head nodded towards her once in satisfaction. "'Bout time."

"Kurt, I'm nervous," Rachel said timidly. "What if she rejects me? I think I might-I might tell her I love her. And what if she just—"

"Just walk away," Kurt said.

Rachel stared wide-eyed at him, completely aghast at what he was suggesting. "I can't just _walk_ _away_ from her, Kurt," she insisted. "I love her."

He swallowed down his food with a smirk. "Not what I meant. Though it's nice to see that you're all in, Miss Berry."

She leaned forward in her seat. "Then what _do_ you mean?"

He waved his hand as if it were obvious by now. "The most memorable love confessions leave the person being confessed to wanting more. Haven't you watched rom-coms?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Tell her you love her…then walk away," Kurt told her. "Give her one lingering, passionate kiss, then leave. She'll come running. Trust me, I'd know."

Rachel's eyebrows shot up in amusement. "And how would you know?"

"I've spent enough Friday nights home watching sappy love stories in which the leading man also has a very close friendship with his conveniently single male best friend. Coincidence? I think not!"

She giggled at the suspicious look on his face. "Is it really that easy, though? This is _Quinn_ we're talking about."

"Rachel, all the girl needs to know is that you're still into her. Then it's hook, line, and sinker from there."

"Again," she said with a bright smile at the prospect of having Quinn back.

"Again." He smiled teasingly. "Just don't screw it up this time."

"I didn't screw it up last time!" she insisted. Then amended with, "Not _really_, anyway. But I-I get that my timing sucked."

"Who would have thought the most closeted, 'boy crazy' girl in this school would end up coming out to her girlfriend's uber-conservative and religious parents?" He shook his head, oddly proud. "Honestly, Rachel, when you do it, you do it big."

She blushed in embarrassment at the whole situation, heart fluttering at Kurt calling Quinn her girlfriend. "I can't help it. I've always been taught to be true to myself."

Kurt rested his chin in his hand with a wistful sigh. "If only we could all do that, huh?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hi, Quinn. I was wondering if you would meet me in the bathroom after class?<strong>_

Rachel stared down at the text message draft on her phone as she contemplated whether or not to send it to Quinn. Her thumb hovered over the green send button with uncertainty. It should be relatively simple. Hopefully. Walk into the bathroom—possibly the most unromantic place on earth, hope Quinn would talk to her, profess her love, kiss her, then leave. It was playing out rather theatrically in Rachel's mind and she appreciated the drama of it.

"_Psst_."

Her head shot up to find Molly staring at her strangely. Rachel flipped her phone closed and shifted in her seat to turn towards Molly. "Was there something you needed?"

Blue eyes sparkled in amusement as Molly stared at her. "Nothing, really. You're just missing the lesson, is all."

Rachel took a deep breath, looking up to the board as her teacher drew an isosceles triangle. She really needed to learn the lesson, but she was on the precipice of possibly having Quinn forgive her. And maybe Quinn could teach her the lesson she was currently missing should they make up.

She looked back down at her phone, debated for a second longer before pressing send. She shut her phone and stared at it for a moment.

"Is something wrong?" Molly asked from beside her.

Rachel shook her head and picked up her pencil to begin writing her notes. She couldn't concentrate of what was being taught and just vowed to write the notes and go over them later at home for a better understanding. Her pencil thumped against her notebook listlessly as she casted a glance outside towards the football field. It had only been days ago when they had been sitting on the bleachers when Quinn told her she liked her, then gave her one of the sweetest kisses in the world. And now Rachel was hanging on by a thread, trying to weasel her way back into Quinn's defenses while she still had a chance.

She jumped in surprise when her phone buzzed and fumbled to flip it open. Molly was giving her an odd look from her peripheral, but Rachel hardly paid attention. It was a text message from Quinn _finally_. After not receiving any reciprocating text messages from Quinn for two days it felt good to see her name flash across the screen. She opened the text message and instantly deflated.

_**Why?**_

If there was ever a master at avoiding a situation, it was Quinn. Which really surprised Rachel because Quinn had always seemed like the confrontational type to her.

"Okay, what's going on?" Molly asked from beside her. "Who are you texting that's got you this upset?"

Rachel smiled lopsidedly at the question. "Quinn and I are fighting right now," she said quietly. Her fingers worked fast past to type back a reply while it seemed Quinn was in the mood to respond.

_**Just to talk, that's all.**_

She sent the text without much thought, barely tuning in to what Molly had to say.

"…honestly, I don't know why you're friends with her."

Rachel's head shot up quickly at the last of Molly's statement. Her eyes blazed earnestly at the urge to defend Quinn's honor. "She's a good person," Rachel insisted. "Most people just don't know that because they never take the time to get to know who she is beyond her popularity."

Molly seemed to recoil back into her own seat at Rachel's statement. She brought a hand up to brush a lock of blonde hair from her face to better see Rachel. "You really like her, don't you?"

"She's a good person," Rachel said again as if that explained everything. "It's just that…she never gets to show that side of herself because she feels that people always take advantage."

"Yeah, well, she better be a good person," Molly said softly. "Because no one underserving should get the chance to be your friend."

Rachel smiled beautifully at the compliment.

* * *

><p>All the text message said was <em>Fine,<em> and Rachel had already pictured Quinn barking that word out in a gruff, petulant voice of submission with an eye roll. But that was okay, because a confirmation was all she needed to speed walk to the bathroom after geometry. She looked to her left then her right to make sure there were no wandering eyes, then opened the door enough to slide inside.

Quinn was standing in front of a mirror at the far end of the bathroom. She was bent to hover over the sink, checking her makeup while trying for aloof at the same time. It must have been working, though, because Rachel just stood and stared at her for a long moment as her heartbeat began to pick up speed in anticipation and nervousness. All she had to do was two things: profess her love and kiss Quinn. Simple. She did more to prepare for bed at night than she was about to do now. But this was so much more important and she could feel her palms sweat grossly in anxiety. Discreetly wiping her hands on her skirt, she took tentative steps further into the bathroom, canting her head to the side to look under every stall. She walked down to the one closest to the wall and turned to lean back against the wall with a somewhat relieved sigh when no one was in there but her and Quinn.

Her eyes slid over to Quinn's rigid posture hovering over the sink. She hadn't looked in Rachel's direction once since she walked in. If Rachel hadn't known any better, she'd actually think Quinn hadn't seen her. But she knew that Quinn was a very perceptive individual.

Clearing her throat, she shifted to demurely clasp her hands behind her back before she spoke. "Good afternoon, Quinn."

At the sound of her name Quinn tensed immediately, shoulders pulling taut with a grimace crinkling her face as she stared at herself in the mirror. She said nothing for a long time, but Rachel couldn't bring it in herself to care as she finally got the chance to share the same space with Quinn one-on-one for the first time since Saturday. "If you're going to break up with me, just do it," Quinn finally gritted out.

It felt like a blow to the gut, and Rachel frantically tried to gather her mental facilities and force her vocal chords to work as she took a step forward in Quinn's direction. The fact that Quinn used the term 'break up' as if they were actually together tugged at her heartstrings in the most confusing way of good and bad. Her throat bobbed with a tight swallow at the sight of Quinn's hands gripping the sink tightly, veins bulging proudly in her hands. "Quinn, no, I'm not—"

In a flash Quinn was directly in front of her, towering over her by about four inches with a glower on her face that felt like a backhand slap. "So, you want me to do it?" she growled. "Fine, then. Rachel, I—"

"Quinn, no," she rushed out, making a grab for Quinn's hand in an effort to tether them together to keep Quinn from breaking them apart. "Quinn, this isn't what I want _at_ _all_," Rachel pleaded.

Quinn looked at her strangely, hurt and anger tightening her lips, but a reluctant hopefulness widening her eyes. "What _do_ you want?" she bit out with impatience.

"Can you stop yelling at me, please?" Rachel asked, feeling her stomach roil with anxiety, and Quinn's indignity wasn't making this love confession thing any easier. "I don't want to break up with you, Quinn. Is that what you thought?"

"You said we needed to talk," Quinn deadpanned, glaring down at her with confused furrowed eyebrows. "You kept calling me and texting me about how much you wanted to talk, so I assumed you wanted to break up with me."

"Is that why—was that why you've been avoiding me this whole time?" Rachel asked in this mystified voice as if she couldn't believe it. "Because you didn't want us to break up?"

Hazel eyes widened as Quinn looked away from her and attempted to pull her hand back. Rachel gripped it tighter and took a step closer to Quinn's rigid form. "Oh, Quinn, honey, no," Rachel lamented sadly. "I don't want us to break up. And I'm sorry you thought that. Okay?" She rubbed circles on the back of Quinn's hand, hoping to calm her down so that they could at least talk.

Quinn's chest heaved with a large breath before she looked back towards Rachel. There was still anger pinching her eyes together that she didn't seem to be ready to let go of. "What was I supposed to think?" she hissed. "You just _left_ me there."

Rachel swallowed thickly against the lump of emotion clogging her throat. "I know, and I'm sorr—"

"Do you have _any_ idea what kinds of questions my parents asked me once you were gone?" Quinn snarled with perfect even teeth clamping down on every syllable she bit out of her mouth.

Rachel shook her head solemnly. Her gaze dropped to their hands, and she intertwined their fingers in a display of solidarity despite the fact that Quinn was obviously upset with her.

Quinn turned to look over her shoulder towards the door. Seeing that it was shut, she turned back to Rachel, eyes burning with anger and an anguish that Rachel was beginning to recognize. "She asked me—" Quinn choked on the rest of her sentence. "My mother asked me if I was gay," she finally whispered.

Her chest began to hurt from staring up at the myriad of emotions flashing across Quinn's face and she desperately wanted to look away.

"And I told her no. But I think she knows. She _knows_, Rachel."

"I'm sorry," Rachel said again. "I truly am, Quinn, and—"

"And I sat there in my room all weekend because I couldn't face them when they know what I am, who I am—_whatever_." She glared down at Rachel. "And then I get text messages and voicemails from you all weekend telling me that you want to _talk_—what was I supposed to think after you left me there on Saturday?"

She paused for a wary moment to see if she was going to be able to speak without Quinn cutting her off. When the coast seemed clear, Rachel took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I really and truly am, okay? I didn't-I didn't really know beforehand that my actions would have the consequences that they did. And for that I'm sorry."

"Why did you just leave?" Quinn asked quietly. She took her bottom lip between her teeth anxiously as she awaited Rachel's answer.

And this was the moment. The most unromantic moment but the skepticism in Quinn's eyes needed to be abated and Rachel knew that nothing else but the truth would work. She recalled her conversation with Finn a couple of days ago and knew that until Quinn was sure about her feelings, they would continue to have problems.

"I left because I was just…sick and tired of having to constantly defend my feelings for you," Rachel told her truthfully in this frail voice that sounded like it hurt her to even say those words. Quinn looked affronted, but Rachel just gave her hand a squeeze and smiled gently at her. "Quinn, I like you. I have from the very beginning and I feel like I've proven myself time and time again. And I just—I don't really want to keep putting myself out there for you when I don't know if you take this as seriously as I do."

"I told you I _like_ you," Quinn told her forcefully. "What more do you want?"

"Some form of commitment," Rachel fired back.

"I've been committed to this for months."

"And so have I."

Quinn's eyes narrowed. "So, what are we arguing about here?"

"We're arguing about the fact that I _love_ you; I need you to actually _commit_ to what we have fully because not being together scares me!" Rachel blurted out suddenly. She blinked once, twice before realization set in, then she instantly clamped a hand down over her mouth as her cheeks burned with mortification at this moment. Her gaze withered and fell away from Quinn's ever widening eyes.

"You…what?" Quinn asked softly after a moment. "You love me?"

Rachel gave a barely there nod, trying to gather her wits about her. Her heart hurt from the distressed way it was pounding into her ribs and she found herself rubbing subconsciously at her arm with the free hand that didn't have an ironclad grip around Quinn's. A few agonizing seconds passed by and, when she couldn't take it anymore, Rachel looked back up at Quinn.

Quinn stared down at Rachel perplexedly. Her lips parted the barest hint to say something, and Rachel's eyes zeroed in on them. This was step two: kiss her and walk away. More specifically, kiss her and walk away before either of them said something that would ruin this moment. If Quinn didn't feel the same way, Rachel didn't want to know until much, _much_ later. Not right now. She was feeling nervous and jittery and just wanted to go home. Not right _now_.

"Rachel," Quinn whispered lowly, much like she had done the day she told Rachel she liked her, reverent. "I—"

Rachel quickly let go of Quinn's hand and rose to the tips of her toes to cup the side of Quinn's face softly. "Don't say anything," she murmured, almost fearfully. "Just let me have this. Okay?"

Quinn's lips collapsed shut and Rachel almost smiled at the nervous swallow she heard and saw lodge itself in Quinn's throat. She took a deep breath, gathering whatever strength she seemed to always possess when she felt people needed to hear the truth—especially when it came to singing. She was blessed with perfect pitch, after all. It was only fair that she shared her gift with the less gifted.

Her thumb brushed across Quinn's cheek to the corner of her mouth as she spoke through a voice that trembled with nervous energy. "Quinn, I'm in love with you," Rachel said quietly. "I've just been…terrified to tell you because I always doubted whether or not you took us seriously. But it's obvious that my leaving you that day at your house exacerbated your own insecurities about us and for that I'm sorry." She inhaled a deep breath, putting on a brave smile that nearly broke her face with its falsity. "And now I'm scared," she admitted in a breath as she continued to stroke Quinn's cheek, staring at her lips because she was unable to meet her eyes. "And I don't want you to say anything because if you…if you don't feel the same way, I think I'd die." Her lips quirked more in genuine amusement. "That's a bit dramatic, though, huh?"

Quinn huffed out a quiet laugh, staring down at Rachel with eyes that sparkled with amazement and apprehension.

"So, I'm telling you now," Rachel declared with finality. "I love you. And I don't want you to say anything back because if you don't feel the same way then I'd _really_ die. But if you-if you do feel the same way, and...if you want to continue this I'll be here to continue this with you…whenever you're ready, Quinn."

Her eyelids fluttered like the butterflies in the pit of her stomach as she leaned in to connect their lips. They met softly in a hesitant, chaste kiss. Rachel held on to the sides of Quinn's face more surely with shaky hands that were just as shaky as Quinn's breath ghosting over her lower lip. Quinn took a cautious step closer, fingertips brushing against Rachel's jawline aimlessly. Then the warm palm of her hand held Rachel's face still as she pulled back, only to dive back in and press their lips more firmly together. The kiss felt uncharacteristically awkward in the most endearing way possible that made Rachel's chest feel warm. It felt like a first kiss, and she reasoned that in a way, it was.

The bell signaling the end of the day rang and Quinn leapt back. She stared at Rachel with a fire in her eyes that looked far from sated and Rachel didn't look much better. She was feeling particularly amorous after her love confession and that awkward ass kiss and wanted nothing more than to love all over Quinn…maybe in some place other than the bathroom.

Instead, she smoothed down her rumpled skirt with finality. She was supposed to kiss and walk away; that was the only way Quinn would follow. So, instead of walking over to Quinn and planting one on her before anyone walked into the bathroom, she flashed a smile that looked oddly liberating and walked away with a cheerful, "Have a good day, Quinn."

With that, she walked, _strutted_ out of the bathroom without a backwards glance and a hand on her hip. She had learned from the best, after all.


	24. Chapter 24

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

**A/N:**I broke this chapter up into two parts because I've been exhausted lately and didn't feel like writing the whole thing, but I also wanted to get something out there to people who are reading the story. I'll try to write the next part sometime this week if I have time, next week for sure if I don't.

* * *

><p>The blaring sound of an alarm clock woke Rachel up from slumber while the sun was miles away. She swatted at it feebly until it turned off. Groggy, Rachel pulled herself out of bed. She staggered out from under the covers, throat dry and sore. Absentmindedly, she rubbed at it as she walked over to her dresser for a sports bra. It was six a.m., time for her elliptical routine. She plucked out a dark blue one and lethargically pulled her nightshirt over her head. Goosebumps rose along her skin and she shivered at the biting cold nipping along her arms and torso. "This can't be good," she muttered to herself. She quickly threw her sports bra on and walked over to her desk. Her book of possible medical conditions that she had written down from <em>Web<em> _MD_ was lodged on a shelf under her desk, and with some extra effort from her weakened limbs, she pulled it out. She flipped through it, eyes widening by the second as her condition seemed to get worse. Now her throat was burning, she was cold, and she was becoming increasingly tired as she fretted over what may be wrong with her.

"It could just be a common cold," she said with a scratchy voice. She flipped through the pages, matching symptoms as she went. "Or it could be the flu." Her throat burned with a swallow of nervousness. She couldn't have the flu. How the hell was she to single-handedly lead the glee club to victory with the flu? She flipped through another page and her blood ran cold. "It could be…mono," she whispered. "Mono? _Mono_! _Oh_, _no!_ Daddy!" she cried.

She dropped her notebook to the floor and dashed out of the room. The smell of fresh hazelnut coffee led her downstairs to find Leroy in a dress shirt, pressed pants, and a tie looking professional as he busied himself with a light breakfast. "Daddy, call a doctor!" she wailed, throwing herself into a coughing fit when her throat protested the volume she was speaking at.

"I am one," Leroy grumbled to himself, though he dropped his bagel and ran over to Rachel. "What's going on?" he asked frantically. He took in the dark circles under her eyes and the pout down turning her lips. She was warm to the touch and his hand flitted from her shoulder to press his palm against her forehead. "You're burning up, honey."

"I have _mono_, daddy!" she cried. "Now's not the time to waste. Quick, call the ambulance and I'll wake dad and get an overnight bag together, and—"

"Sweetheart, I can tell you now you don't have mono," he chuckled.

Rachel frowned deeply at his patronizing comment. "How can you possibly know that—"

"Do your muscles hurt?"

"Well…no," she conceded. "But they _are_ very tired."

"Do you have a measles-like skin rash?" Leroy continued with a detached air about him. He had switched into doctor mode and it only made Rachel pout more. He critically eyed her mostly bare torso. "All I see are goosebumps."

"But I'm hot now," she whined, feeling out of sorts.

He promptly walked towards the refrigerator. "What else are you feeling?"

"My throat hurts; I'm hot _and_ cold, and dreadfully tired."

He snickered quietly at her antics as he poured her a glass of apple juice. "How about we get rid of the hot first?" he suggested.

Reluctantly, Rachel walked over to the kitchen table and took a seat. She was still pretty sure she had mono no matter what Leroy said. But she wasn't really in the mood to go to the doctor when she had school to attend, so her untreated mono ridden body would just have to endure. She gratefully accepted the glass of apple juice from Leroy and proceeded to down the entire glass like her life depended on it.

Leroy stood off to the side of her and placed his hand on her forehead again. "I should probably take your temperature," he muttered to himself before walking away and upstairs. "Hopefully the apple juice won't burn like I know the orange juice would."

Rachel slinked from the table once her glass was empty. Her throat was still burning but the apple juice had largely subdued the uncomfortable feeling for now. She walked upstairs to find Leroy with a thermometer in his hand, slowly walking from the bathroom. He looked up to find her in front of him and handed it to her.

Rachel took it and stuck it under her tongue immediately. She went to say something, but Leroy placed his index finger and thumb on her lips to clamp them shut. Amusement swirled in his dark eyes. "This is the one time where you shouldn't talk."

Folding her arms with a huff, Rachel cocked a hip out and stood in the middle of the hallway with Leroy as the thermometer climbed higher with her temperature. Her morning routine was pretty much shot out of the window by now, which meant that the rest of her day was going to completely be thrown off.

Her stomach dropped as her mind went from school, to the fact that she was going to see Quinn today _in_ school. And after confessing her undying love for her, Rachel was both eager and apprehensive to hear what Quinn had to say. She hoped Quinn would return her affections, but wasn't sure if the odds were in her favor or not.

The thermometer beeped and she took it out of her mouth, turning to read her temperature. "One hundred and one, daddy," she told him, looking up at Leroy.

He sighed and took the thermometer back. "Well, then, that's settled. You're not going to school today." He swiftly turned back around and walked back into the bathroom.

"_What_?" Rachel asked incredulously. "Daddy, you can't be serious."

"As a heart attack," he returned, dabbing a cotton swab into a bottle of alcohol and cleaning the thermometer with it. "You know the rules. A temperature one hundred or more is a no-go for school, Rachel."

"B-but this day is important," she sputtered, fidgeting with the draw strings of her pink pajama pants. "Quinn is going to tell me how she feels about me today."

"Then I suggest you call her." Leroy popped off a cap of purple syrupy cough medicine and Rachel grimaced as he handed it to her.

A faint sound of disgust left her as she stared down at the thick dark liquid, small bubbles rising to the surface. "These are simply awful," she complained. "The grape never tastes like grape and the strawberry never tastes like strawberry. False advertisement at its finest, that's illegal, daddy."

Leroy's face turned sympathetic as he watched Rachel pinch her nose to dilute the taste as she drank the entire dosage. "It'll make you feel better."

Her mouth hung open in horror once it was all over. "Take it," she wheezed, handing him the cup.

He placed everything on the bathroom counter and ushered Rachel to her room. "Now you get right into bed and rest. Do you need me to stay home?"

"Daddy, I don't want to stay home," she whined.

"What's going on?" Hiram asked around a yawn, scratching lazily at his stomach as he walked down the hallway from his bedroom.

"Your daughter is sick and being stubborn," Leroy explained. "Typical morning."

"Ah."

"I'm going to school, daddy."

Ignoring her, Leroy asked Hiram, "Would you like to stay home with her?"

"I can stay home by myself," Rachel grumbled, folding her arms across her chest. Irritated, she stalked back into her room and towards the bed. She was tired and upset and kind of cold, except not really.

Hiram and Leroy followed in after her. Leroy walked to her dresser to find a night shirt to cover her mostly bare torso as Hiram sat beside her on the bed. "You don't want me to stay home, honey?"

"No, you go to work," Rachel sighed as she finally, _finally_ got to lie back on her pillows and rest. She hadn't realized how tired she was until now. "I'll mostly be sleeping all day anyway," she continued with a yawn.

Leroy emerged with a red night shirt, walking towards the bed and handing it to Rachel. "Here, put this on."

"No, thank you; I'm feeling hot right now."

Hiram pulled back the covers he was about to tuck Rachel in with. "Oh, well never mind."

"No, I'm cold," she whined feebly, grabbing at the covers around her legs and dragging them up her torso to tuck under her chin.

Hiram and Leroy exchanged amused glances.

"Well, if your highness is done jerking us around, hopefully she can get some sleep," Hiram teased.

"You've just joined in. I've been dealing with her for over forty minutes," Leroy said.

"Dads, I can't sleep if you're talking," she complained, pulling the covers over her head and burrowing into the warmth. Then she stuck a foot out a moment later when she began to feel overheated.

Leroy leaned over to kiss where he assumed Rachel's forehead would be. "I'll be sure to call and check on you, sweetheart."

"Call if you need anything," Hiram insisted. "Even if you need us to come home, we're only a call away."

"Love you guys," came Rachel's faint voice from under the covers.

"We love you, too, sweetheart."

* * *

><p>Her phone chirped once, waking her up and Rachel cursed herself for being a light sleeper. Taking a few seconds to gather the strength she was sure it was going to take to sit up, she pushed back the covers and dug her hands into the mattress and pushed. She sat up with ease and fluffed a pillow to lay behind her as she rested against the headboard. Her throat was still stinging, but barely; she felt mildly warm instead of the constant hot and cold she had felt hours ago. She pressed a palm to her forehead, noting that she still felt warm, but it was manageable. There was a glass of apple juice beside her and Rachel wrapped a hand around it, noting that it was room temperature. One of her fathers must have doubled back and left it for her before they left to start their day.<p>

She brought it to her lips, taking a luxurious sip and reveling in the way it coated her throat coolly on the way down. She grabbed her phone from her nightstand with her other hand and opened it. It was a text message from Kurt. Opening it, her eyes darted to the corner of her phone to the time. Eleven a.m. Her mouth twisted in frustration of having missed school today, having missed what was hopefully a declaration of love from Quinn. Or at the very least, a dazzling kiss in a low lit, low populated area of the school seeing as Quinn didn't seem like the type to profess her love for someone.

Her phone chirped again and, having not read the first message, she opened the second one from Kurt that flashed across her screen.

_**What the hell am I supposed to tell Quinn? She just asked me where you were, then rolled her eyes and walked away when I couldn't give a sufficient answer. Where in hell are you, Rachel?**_

She giggled happily as she read the message, glad that Quinn thought enough about her to ask around. It somewhat assuaged her curiosity of Quinn's feelings as she visualized the rude way Quinn probably approached Kurt and demanded to know her whereabouts.

She pressed a button to reply and began typing as yet another text message intercepted. Rachel grinned widely, feeling popular all of a sudden. Then she stopped breathing all together once she saw who the message was from.

Quinn.

Her five letter name sat right in the middle of Rachel's phone screen with a closed envelope attached to it to signify a new unread text message. Rachel inhaled a deep breath at the sight of it. With shaky fingers she opened the message.

_**I haven't seen you all day. Are you not at school?**_

The message gave no indication as to how _not_ seeing her affected Quinn, but the fact that Quinn even bothered to send a text message clued Rachel in to the fact that she was being missed. It had taken a while for an over the top person like Rachel who loved to express herself in grand gestures without a hint of subtlety to understand the subtle ways in which Quinn expressed how she was feeling, but now she was catching on.

_**Hi, Quinn. :) I seem to have come down with a bout of mono disguised as the common cold. That being said, my fathers didn't allow me to come to school. You needn't worry though, because I will be in tip top shape by tomorrow!**_

She smiled down at the message and the fact that Quinn was texting her. Things seemed to be back to normal, more than if Quinn was sending her text messages that basically screamed '_I miss you'_.

Remembering she had yet to answer to Kurt's two messages, she opened up his latest one to reply.

_**Quinn just texted me. Amazing, right? :) She basically said she missed me, and I told her that I have a cold. So, don't worry; she won't bother you again.**_

Stretching, Rachel pulled the blankets back fully and stood from the bed, deciding to do something around the house before she went stir crazy. She grabbed her phone and walked into the bathroom to check her temperature again. It was under a hundred but barely, and she decided to forego a shirt in an effort to keep her body from overheating. Her phone buzzed as she flipped the light switch off in the bathroom and she took the stairs down to the kitchen as she opened it.

_**Mono, hmm? And who would you have gotten mono from, Berry?**_

The text seemed decidedly playful if Rachel's rising eyebrows were any indication. As far as Rachel knew _Quinn_ should know how much she loved her by now. But to play it safe, Rachel tried flattery.

_**Though known as the "kissing disease", mono can also be contracted through sharing food or drinks with various people. So, either you gave it to me through amazing kisses, or I'll have to stop sharing juice boxes with Kurt during lunch. :)**_

The reply was almost instantaneous and Rachel brought her phone with her to the refrigerator as she blindly reached inside for the apple juice jug, hanging on Quinn's every word.

_**I'm not the one who's sick.**_

She smiled slyly.

_**Then perhaps I'll have to look into bringing two juice boxes to lunch.**_

Her heart pounded harshly against her chest; texting Quinn gave her such a rush. She hastily drank a glass of apple juice to moisten her throat that suddenly felt dry. The burning sensation dissipated once again for now and she sighed at how much better and cooler she felt as the cold apple juice traveled through her body.

Her phone vibrated against the counter and, already having it flipped open, she pressed a button, frowning when Kurt's message flashed across the screen. She had been hoping it was Quinn.

_**Get it, girl! ;) Does this mean you won't be coming to glee club?**_

Frowning deeper, she swiped up her phone to reply as she walked out of the kitchen.

_**I suppose so. :( Please make sure that Mr. Schuester doesn't give away any of my solos. You know he's been holding a grudge against me ever since I first outshined the girls. He wants team work and I give him that, but I'm not going to NOT shine just because he wants everyone to have an equal chance at singing. The real world doesn't work that way, you know. Certainly Broadway doesn't.**_

She sent that message with a huff of vindication. A moment later a thought occurred to her and she reopened her phone to send a message to Finn.

_**Hi, Finn. I was wondering if you could gather my homework from my classes today and drop them off at my house for me. I'm terribly sick, and therefore, not at school today.**_

Once in her room, she lied back on her bed, snuggling under the covers as her phone chimed with a message from Quinn.

_**Possibly. Wouldn't want you to die.**_

Rachel rolled her eyes at how dramatic the text was.

_**Right, because you'd miss me and I'd miss you, too.**_

Her phone chirped again with Finn's message of agreement and she smiled at how wonderful the people in her life were.

She turned onto her side, not really expecting a reply from Quinn, but her phone buzzed two minutes later anyway. Blinking sleepy eyes open, Rachel fumbled to open the text message from her.

_**Mhm... :)**_

She wasn't sure which was going to bulge out of her body first, her eyes or her heart.

* * *

><p><em>Don't tell me not to live, just sit and putter. Life's candy and the sun's a ball of butter.<em>

"No," Rachel mumbled to her ringing phone. Her face scrunched in irritation at being woken up again, though she admitted to herself that waking up to the sound of her own voice was amazing. Her own voice kept loudly singing one of her all-time favorite songs to her and she silently critiqued her own performance as her fingers crawled from under the blanket to wrap around her phone.

She gave it a ten out of ten.

"Hello?" she muttered into the phone.

"Uh, hey, Rachel," Finn's voice came through loud and clear, a little shaky.

"Hi, Finn." She rubbed at her sleepy eyes. "Did you get my homework?"

"Yeah," he replied distractedly. "Hey, umm, you and Quinn already made up, right?"

"Give it to me!" a muffled voice sounding farther away than Finn's said. Rachel perked up immediately as she recognized it.

"Ow, cut that out, Quinn!" Finn yelled.

"Hi, Quinn," Rachel greeted loudly, cheeks burning from smiling so hard.

It was quiet for a moment, then Finn laughed. "Rach, you should see how red her face i—ow, Quinn, stop!"

"Give. It. _Here_," Quinn reiterated, causing Rachel to wince in sympathy for Finn.

"I gotta go, Rachel. Bye."

The line clicked after that, leaving Rachel completely dumbfounded as to what just happened. She hit redial and was sent straight to Finn's voicemail.

A huff of frustration pushed past her lips. She pulled back her covers and walked towards her bathroom. Her reflection in the mirror looked as well rested as she felt and she pulled her toothbrush from the holder, deciding to look at least somewhat presentable for when Finn would visit.

Halfway through her forty-five minute routine, rinsing off her facial wash, the doorbell rang and Rachel quickly toweled her face dry and ran into her room. "In a minute!" she called loudly as if the person outside would actually be able to hear her.

She threw on a robe and haphazardly tied it to run downstairs towards the door. Taking a deep breath to calm herself so she wouldn't look crazy and out of breath, Rachel opened the door.

Only, her big, tall, sometimes clumsy best friend wasn't on the other side of the door.

But standing in his absence was Quinn, her kind of girlfriend who she professed her love to the day before. She was standing on Rachel's doorstep in her Cheerios uniform and letterman jacket to fight off the winter chill, and a neat ponytail with every strand of hair in place atop her head.

Rachel's stomach flopped and bottomed out, leaving her swaying where she stood. She kept telling herself not to faint, her grip on the doorknob tightening.

Quinn smirked at the shocked look on her face, though her eyes held concern and a hint of relief as she stared at Rachel. "Hi."

"Q-Quinn," she stammered. "Hi! Please come in." She quickly shuffled aside, body going on autopilot as her brain tried to play catch up. Quinn hoisted what looked to be a heavy bag higher on her shoulder, as well as her Cheerios bag on her other shoulder and stepped into the house. "How are you?"

"I'm great," Quinn replied slowly, taking in what she could see of Rachel's house before turning to Rachel. Immediately her eyebrows knotted in concern as she looked down into dark brown eyes. "Are you feeling better?"

She was feeling a lot better now that Quinn was here, but chose not to voice such a cliché thought. Leaning back against the door, Rachel stared adoringly up at Quinn as it shut. She twisted the lock and pushed off the door to wrap her arms around Quinn's waist. "I'm much better, thank you."

Quinn exhaled a quick breath, hesitating for only a moment before her arms wrapped around Rachel's shoulders. She buried her nose into Rachel's hair with a deep inhale.

Rachel pulled back after a moment, eyes shining in excitement that Quinn had surprised her with a visit. Her hand slipped into Quinn's with ease, intertwining their fingers as she walked them through the house. "How did you get here?" she asked happily.

Quinn shrugged a shoulder as if it was no big deal. "I made Finn give me the address."

Rachel stopped halfway up the stairs and turned to face Quinn. "Is that what the two of you were arguing about while I was on the phone with him?"

Quinn turned away as a slow flush began to creep across her cheeks. "No. I was talking about your homework that time."

Rachel smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss against the blushing red cheek being presented to her. "Well, at any rate, thank you, Quinn. I really appreciate it."

Quinn turned back to look at her with suddenly serious and determined eyes. "I can do those things for you," she said very deliberately. "If you're sick and you want someone to bring you your homework, I can do that."

Her smile turned shy at the implication Quinn was getting at and she nodded, speechless for once. She tugged on Quinn's hand until she was closer, staring wide-eyed up at her. Her fingers had found Quinn's jacket, toying with the unfastened buttons with interest as her stomach fluttered. Leaning up onto the tips of her toes, Rachel cupped the sides of Quinn's face and kissed her soundly. Her lips slid hotly over Quinn's in a show of gratitude and excitement for what they were on the precipice of. The loose tie around her robe finally gave way to present her mostly bare torso to the room. It kind of felt like the roles were reversed—she had seen Quinn in her bra twice and now…it was Quinn's turn to see her.

As if reading her thoughts, Quinn pulled back enough to tip her head down to see soft tan skin. Rachel pressed a kiss to Quinn's forehead and reached for her hand again. "Want to see my room?"

She had purposefully left the question innocuous in an attempt to gauge Quinn's reaction. When Quinn swallowed thickly, jaw clenched and gave a curt nod, Rachel knew they were on the same page. She made a mental note to thank Kurt for his advice as Quinn followed her up to her room.


	25. Chapter 25

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

* * *

><p>As soon as they crossed the threshold to her room, Rachel spun around to take the heavy bag of books from Quinn. "I'll take these," she said brightly, still giddy that Quinn was there. She unzipped the bag and pulled her own books out, leaving Quinn's inside.<p>

When she straightened she found Quinn in basically the same place she was moments ago, surveying Rachel's room.

"Do you like it?" Rachel asked.

"It's very…you," Quinn answered with an amused edge to her voice.

Rachel crossed her arms. "I hope that's a compliment."

Quinn walked further into the room with eyes dead set on Rachel. "You should lie down."

Her arms slowly uncrossed as her curiosity piqued. "Why?"

Quinn's Cheerio duffel bag hit the floor with a thud. "Because you're sick."

Rachel rolled her eyes all the way to her bed where she wrestled out of her robe, feeling feverish or hot and bothered—she couldn't be sure. Quinn was standing there in the middle of her room in a Cheerios uniform, shrugging nonchalantly out of her letterman. It harkened back to those two, three, several…_thoughts_ she had had about Quinn months ago. Only this was so much more than that and so were they.

She patted the space beside her with an encouraging smile as she scooted over to make room. "Come sit down."

Quinn hesitated, her gaze sweeping over Rachel's body. She bit her lip in contemplation, looking anxious as she sat down.

Sensing Quinn's sudden nervousness, Rachel sat up and grabbed her hand. "Quinn?" she said quietly.

Quinn stared down at their hands for a moment before looking up towards Rachel.

"Just because I'm topless and lying on a bed doesn't mean you have to do something you're not ready for. I've been in a bra all day because I've had a fever and I've been hot," Rachel explained slowly. This was the president of the celibacy club she was speaking to, and the last thing she wanted was for Quinn to be uncomfortable. Rachel prided herself on respecting Quinn's celibacy vow unlike Puck, and she wanted to keep it that way no matter how excited she was to have Quinn in her room.

Quinn took her bottom lip between her teeth for a long moment. She released it in a puff of air that bordered on frustration as she pursed her lips. "It's…not that," she said slowly.

Rachel scooted closer. "Then what is it?"

Quinn shrugged and looked away as she stood from the bed. "Doesn't matter. You have mono anyway." She stopped moving all together and turned to Rachel slowly, disbelief widening her eyes into panic. "Did you _kiss_ me while you have mono? Berry!"

Rachel winced. "I _don't_. Not…really." She sighed. "It's actually a just a common cold that I thought was mono. But my father, a doctor, informed me otherwise."

Hazel eyes narrowed as Quinn watched Rachel suspiciously. "So, you don't really have it?"

With a smile, Rachel shook her head and scooted over. "Come lay beside me."

"It's just a cold?"

"Just a cold."

Quinn took hesitant steps closer to sit on a corner of Rachel's bed. "And I won't catch it?"

Her smile widened into a grin at the thought that if Quinn was really that worried, she wouldn't have visited. "Most likely not. And if you do, you'll only be out of school for a day."

"I'll have you know," Quinn began as she leaned over the bed to take her shoes off, "that I have a perfect attendance record that I don't want you screwing up for me, Berry." She turned back around with a cocked eyebrow that made Rachel warm all over.

"I'll be sure to sign you in to all of your classes. It'll be like you were there all along," Rachel said, eyes widening in wonder as Quinn reclined on her bed. She tucked both of her arms under her head and rested on Rachel's pillows.

Quinn looked…mildly uncomfortable as she stared up at the ceiling with thin eyebrows bunching, legs crossed at the ankles, and entire body tensed. Rachel twisted her fingers into her bed sheets as her gaze lingered on the flat plane of Quinn's abdomen. She cleared her throat, snapping her gaze up to Quinn's. "I just—I really wanted to reiterate how sorry I am about what happened at your house," Rachel said quietly. "I didn't know…"

She trailed off as Quinn sat up to face her, looking even more uncomfortable as she tugged on the short sleeve of her Cheerios uniform. Lips pressed firmly together, Quinn stared at Rachel for a long moment before her gaze dropped to the bed sheets. "I think my mother is waiting for me to say something."

"To say that you're gay," Rachel supplied as she watched Quinn carefully for any signs that she didn't want to be having this conversation.

Quinn shot her a wry look, then rolled her eyes. "If anything, I would tell her I was bi."

Dark eyebrows bunched in confusion at Quinn's statement. "But you're…not, right?" Rachel asked, perplexed. Quinn had been throwing her mixed signals for months but she had inadvertently stated on more than one occasion that she was a lesbian.

Quinn shrugged. "You're the only girl I've dated, Rachel." She shifted on the bed, running a hand through her hair in a nervous tick as her eyes darted from Rachel to a nearby wall.

Her mind tripped and fell over the last of Quinn's statement and everything else seemed to melt away as she focused on that. "Are-are we…?" she asked, voice barely a breath as her lungs collapsed in on each other in breathless excitement.

Quinn stopped moving all together, then she straightened, turning to look at Rachel. "Are we what?" she asked intently.

A shoulder bounced up and down in a demure shrug as her gaze lowered. "It's just that, well, everyone already calls you my girlfriend, and—"

"Everyone?" Quinn hedged with anxiousness lacing her voice as she leaned forward. "Who's everyone?"

Rachel quickly looked up to lock eyes with her. "Not _everyone_ as in the entire school population. Everyone as in…Finn, and Kurt, and Brittany and Santana." She took a deep breath. "My fathers."

"You're wonderful at keeping secrets," Quinn replied sarcastically.

Rachel's gaze never wavered as she carefully stated, "I'm not ashamed of us."

A tiny gasp escaped Quinn as she leaned back to her side of the bed, deflated. "I'm not ashamed," she said quietly. "It's just—"

"I know," Rachel assured, voice just as quiet and soft. She reached out and grabbed Quinn's hand from where it was pressing deeply into her bed with mounting frustration and warring ideals.

"I just don't want them to know," Quinn continued in that same voice that was a far cry from the domineering and intimidating Head Cheerio of McKinley High. This was the girl who Rachel finally got to see after months of false bravado and teasing glances that held so much more than she could have ever predicted.

Whether Quinn was speaking of her parents or their peers, Rachel wasn't sure. Probably both. She nodded with a small shrug of agreement, because as proud of a person as she was, she didn't want the school at large to know about her sexuality either. That would just be one thing added to the laundry list of characteristics that apparently made her a social outcast of the school.

Her thumb stroked soothing circles along the back of Quinn's hand. "They don't have to know. This can just be between us."

Quinn was quiet for a long moment, her face in a concentrated frown as if she had a tallying machine in front of her and was currently adding up the worth of their relationship. Then, she smiled, closed lipped and faint. "They say you're mine, too."

Rachel giggled, abrupt and happily while covering her mouth with her unoccupied hand, and Quinn smiled the barest hint wider as she peered at her through endlessly long eyelashes.

She could feel warmth spreading low in her stomach from the way Quinn was looking at her, and, with a tight swallow, Rachel asked, "Am I? Your girlfriend, I mean."

Quinn sucked in a deep, scandalized breath and held it, as if this question was a surprise, as if Rachel hadn't been coaxing her into a formal relationship for months. "And this is…this is what you—"

"I want to be your girlfriend, Quinn," Rachel stated boldly with slow patience. "Do you want to be mine?"

"Yes," Quinn exhaled shakily, inhaling one ragged breath after another.

As soon as the word left her mouth, Rachel rose up on her knees in eagerness she hadn't felt all day and leaned forward. "Seriously?" she whispered. "We're-we're doing this? We're girlfriends? You're mine and I'm yours?" she babbled as she leaned closer until her big, expressive eyes shining in delight were all Quinn could see.

Quinn's lips pulled into a thin smile as Rachel edged closer. She brought a hand up to smooth dark locks of hair from Rachel's face and twined her fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, smiling in amusement at the impatient way Rachel waited for a confirmation. "We're together," she breathed softly, tracing Rachel's jawline and down her neck with her eyes. "Okay?"

Rachel nodded enthusiastically, heart thumping so harshly she could feel it in her ears. "I can't believe this," she whispered as she leaned even closer. When Quinn's fingers tightened in her hair, she took it as a go ahead and leaned forward to connect their lips fully.

Quinn immediately buried both hands in Rachel's hair and pulled her closer. She pulled on Rachel's bottom lip with her teeth, then made a groan of annoyance and pulled back, face twisting. "Gross. You're sick," she muttered.

Flopping back down on the bed with a sigh, Rachel couldn't help but run her tongue along her lower lip to soothe the sting as she eyed Quinn through her eyelashes. "It's not that bad," she explained, voice teetering on a whine in order to get Quinn to understand. "You won't get _that_ sick."

Hazel eyes shined in amusement. In a quick turn Quinn went from being beside Rachel to straddling her effortlessly with a cruel smirk at the way Rachel sucked in a gulp of air like it was going out of style.

She was the perfect image of a wolf in sheep's clothing, an angel with a little demon in her that made Rachel love her all the more as she sat up and cupped Quinn's cheek with a soft whisper of, "Take your hair down."

Rachel had grown to love this particular fallen angel because she would blush with all the virtues she had like right now as she peered directly at Rachel with fire in her eyes, drawing a hand up into her hair and working it until luscious blonde locks tumbled free down her shoulders.

A shy smile blossomed on Rachel's face. "I like your hair when it's down."

Quinn hummed, looking contemplative as if she was filing that fact away for later as she leaned in closer. "Lay down," she whispered when their foreheads touched.

Stifling a shiver down her spine, Rachel gave a small smile. "Okay, but just one thing?"

Long fingers rested lightly on her stomach as Quinn's once preoccupied gaze snapped up to hers. "What?"

"Could you—" She licked her lips nervously as a blush began to darken her cheeks. "Could you maybe…call me your girlfriend?"

"Rachel," Quinn sighed.

"Just, like—'hey, girlfriend', or—"

"No." Quinn frowned. "That's embarrassing and stupid."

She seemed to deflate back to the bed at Quinn's words. "Even when it's just us?" She folded her arms across herself, looking away as hurt flashed over her features.

Quinn was eerily silent for a moment, and they both sat there unmoving. Then Rachel felt thin hands grasp her wrists, pulling her arms away. She looked up just in time to find Quinn pushing her back onto the bed. She looked down at Rachel with determined frustration, cheeks dusting pink as she leaned in closer. She pushed the entire length of her body against the one below her and Rachel gasped languidly at the feel of soft curves touching her everywhere. Quinn cupped the side of her face opposite where she was currently tonguing the shell of her ear. She licked to the tip then closed her teeth down on the sensitive flesh until Rachel whimpered. "You're my girlfriend," Quinn whispered in her ear, voice a low, husky drawl.

"Kiss me," Rachel replied urgently as soft lips burned a trail across her cheek and down her jawline.

"I am."

"On the lips," Rachel stipulated.

"No."

"Quinn," she whined.

Quinn puffed out a breath on the underside of her jaw and Rachel shivered. "You're sick." Her lips curved into a smirk. "So, I just won't kiss you on the lips." As if to prove her point, she buried herself into Rachel's neck, pressing searing kisses against her flesh that had Rachel squirming on the bed.

Hissing in a breath when Quinn teeth closed in around her collarbone, Rachel stared deliriously at the ceiling, _her_ ceiling. Quinn was in _her_ bed…placing a hickey along the edge of her sports bra it seemed. Her hands clenched together at her sides before she grabbed at Quinn's waist, tugging until Quinn was fully on top of her, breast to breast and hip to hip in a way that made her moan softly.

With a tight swallow, Quinn rested one hand against the bed, curving her other high on Rachel's waist as her questing lips hesitantly traveled downwards. She slowed, her lips brushing Rachel's bra, then she pulled away to stare up at Rachel.

Rachel peered down at the Quinn's cheeks flushed a rosy red in what was probably equal parts embarrassment and arousal if what was going through her mind was what was flowing through Rachel's as well. Her nipples, stiff and at full attention, burned holes through her sports bra, and Rachel tipped her head back in embarrassment as Quinn's gaze dropped to them.

"You can—" She blinked rapidly at the ceiling, wondering if she should say what she wanted to or not. Feeling incredibly shy about asking her new girlfriend, the president of the celibacy club to please fondle her breasts, Rachel instead reached down, grabbing the hand curled tightly around her waist and slowly peeling long fingers away. With her hand covering Quinn's, she dragged them both slowly up her body. They bypassed her ribs and her breath hitched as their hands trekked higher until Quinn was cupping her breast. The palm of her hand applied the lightest pressure and the fabric of Rachel's bra dug into her nipple until she moaned.

Quinn's wide eyes drifted from her hand cupping Rachel's breast up to her face, flushed cheeks and eyelashes fluttering shut on them. "This feels good, then?" she whispered, giving the round flesh in her hand a tentative squeeze and smirking at the way Rachel arched into her hand.

"Really good," Rachel breathed, lying back to rest on her pillows and luxuriating in the way Quinn touched her. A moan rumbled in her throat as soft lips appeared there again, teasing Rachel into a frenzy as a carefully placed thumb rubbed excruciatingly slowly across her nipple.

Rachel buried a hand in Quinn's hair, twisting the other one into the bed sheets as Quinn gripped her breast more surely than she had seconds before. She was a fast learner, it seemed. Full pouty lips spanned across her neck and collarbone with a gentle care that felt oddly new. Rachel felt her chest expand with warmth separate in emotion from the warmth shooting down between her legs. She took a deep breath, her fingers going from digging into Quinn's scalp, to running affectionately through blonde curls. "I love you," Rachel whispered.

The insistent kisses dotted along her neck slowed until Quinn pulled back enough to sigh against her skin. She pulled back fully with pensive features as her murky green eyes met Rachel. "What does that feel like?"

"Beg pardon?" Rachel blurted out in confusion, suddenly feeling cold as Quinn rolled off of her.

Quinn lied on her side, head propped in her hand as she regarded Rachel evenly. "You keep saying you love me."

Rachel nodded, still resting back against the pillows. "I do."

"What's that like?" Quinn reiterated. "What do you…feel that makes you say that, I guess is what I'm asking?"

"Didn't you love Finn?"

Quinn shifted uncomfortably on the bed. Her lips pursed in thought. "I told him I did," she said slowly. "But I just—what I feel for you I didn't really feel…for him," she finished stiltedly, taking her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyebrows danced nervously along her forehead.

Rachel smiled. "What do you feel for me?"

"I asked you first," Quinn snapped back with a serious frown that kind of looked adorable in the context of this moment.

Taking a deep breath, Rachel rose to mimic Quinn's position, resting on her side. "I just—I think about you a lot," she admitted. "And it makes me feel really warm. Like, right here." She placed the palm of her hand against her chest, resisting the urge to roll her eyes when she realized she was doing what Finn had done months ago the day they had had that picnic in the auditorium. "My heart beats fast. You make me smile." As if to prove her point, her lips curved into a small grin all on their own. "You make me think."

Quinn arched an eyebrow at that comment.

"You-you _challenge_ me in ways that no one else does, and I appreciate that. You teach me things—like geometry, and how to apply eyeliner, and what it really feels like to be in love with someone." Her breath shuddered out as she held Quinn's gaze unwaveringly. "And I—when you kiss me…I feel hot all over. And I get—I _feel_—"

"What?" Quinn whispered, a flicker of arousal and wonderment showing in her eyes though her lips were pressed together reservedly.

"I get wet," Rachel admitted quietly, shrugging a shoulder as her face began to warm over. She fidgeted where she lied on the bed as that particular feeling began to make itself more pronounced, sticking to her as she watched Quinn lick her bottom lip. "I get so excited just to be able to touch you and kiss you."

Quinn licked her lips again, a flush creeping down her neck. Her head dipped to make her appear almost bashful as she scooted the tiniest bit closer. "Finn would—" She cleared her throat with a roll of her eyes. "He would tell me that he was hard," she whispered. Rachel's face scrunched up at where this conversation was heading, but she didn't interrupt. "And I would hate it, hate knowing that about him." Quinn's face balled up until she was unconsciously mimicking Rachel's. "It was gross."

Catching on, Rachel's lips parted into an _O_ of understanding. Then she grimaced, asking, "Did what I say—"

"No," Quinn cut in. "No, it was—it wasn't gross."

Rachel almost smiled. "Then what was it?"

Quinn scooted closer until their lips brushed. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to Rachel's lips. "Are you wet now?" Quinn whispered.

Rachel whimpered at the question and the devastating tightening low in her gut that caused her to clench her thighs together. She breathed in an overwhelmed breath, eyes clenched shut as she wondered if one look at Quinn would send her spiraling into an embarrassing orgasm. She felt the fleeting press of soft lips on her cheek and smiled a little at how affectionate the action was. How Quinn could flip-flop between an innocent girl and a seductive vixen made no sense, but Rachel's stomach flip-flopped right along with it.

Her eyes fluttered open after she had the chance to collect herself, and she greedily took in Quinn's flushed face framed by her hair, down to her heaving chest, flat stomach, and the tops of her thighs. "Are you?" she countered when her gaze ran back up to the obvious arousal in Quinn's eyes.

Quinn swallowed thickly. "I am," she admitted.

"Can I—would you like to make out?" Rachel suggested. "Again? It could alleviate any form of tension you may be feeling, and—"

"Okay," Quinn breathed. She backed away from Rachel and lied down on the bed, blonde hair splaying across Rachel's pillows as Quinn stared at the ceiling.

Rachel watched, utterly befuddled as to what was happening. Her eyes narrowed. "I'm a bit confused as to—"

"Rachel," Quinn began patiently, though not really because there was an edge to her voice that made the hair on the back of Rachel's neck stand on end. "Come here."

On her hands and knees, Rachel crawled closer until she was hovering over Quinn. Understanding began to dawn on her as Quinn reached forward and grabbed her hip with a familiarity that only made her hotter. "You want me to…" she trailed off as she rose, hiking a leg up and lifting it, leaning over Quinn until she was straddling her hips. "Oh," Rachel sighed, moaned in understanding as she settled flush against Quinn.

Her eyes fluttered open once she had the chance to realize they had shut in pleasure and she looked down to find Quinn below her; she looked…small at this angle in a way that made Rachel feel empowered, but also called upon a need in her to protect her…her _girlfriend._

"Do you feel the same way?" Rachel asked suddenly as she stared down at Quinn's slowly relaxing form. Hands hovered about her waist for a moment before Quinn finally settled them there with permanence.

Quinn looked up at her with openness in her eyes Rachel had never seen that squeezed her heart. She nodded, lips pressed firmly together as if even after all this time she was still trying to keep a well kept secret.

Rachel leaned down, resting their foreheads together as her hair cascaded around them to create a dark curtain, blocking out the rest of the world. "I love you," Rachel assured with a sweet smile. When Quinn echoed with one, she grinned. "Say it back?"

Surer hands and long fingers rubbed down her bare back absentmindedly, pressing the pads of gentle fingertips into her skin as Quinn stared up at her. She huffed out a breathless laugh, sounding incredulous at the situation she had found herself in. "I do," she whispered. She heaved a deep breath, chest rising and falling in a way that was distracting, but Rachel was nothing if not attentive as her gaze trained on darkened hazel eyes and those eyes alone. "I love you," Quinn said softly.

Relief and overwhelming affection poured into Rachel. Without a word more, she swooped down on an unsuspecting Quinn and crushed their mouths together with brutal force, sickness be damned. A muffled yelp of surprise left Quinn as _she_ was finally being the one kissed into the mattress within an inch of her life. Rachel pulled back enough to giggle at the sound until Quinn nipped harshly at her lower lip, curled a hand around the back of her neck and forced her back down. Rachel kissed her fully, melding their lips together as she grabbed the edge of the mattress. She realized after a moment of sucking on Quinn's upper lip that she was the one who was controlling this kiss. And after months of kissing Quinn and learning what she liked, Rachel wanted nothing more than to be able to put it into practice at her own pace.

She was in control. She was on top this time and now understood why Quinn loved this position so much. From the top of the pyramid, to straddling Rachel's thighs, Quinn loved this position and Rachel was starting to love it, too.

Luxuriating in the ragged puffs of breath against her mouth, Rachel dipped lower to take a full bottom lip between her teeth. She sucked on it softly until a slow groan left Quinn and shot down Rachel's arched spine. Blunt nails raked down the back of her neck and she shivered with a broken whine as Quinn's fingers began to travel lower, creating ticklish sensations down her back. Rachel pulled away enough to breathe then dove right back in, dragging her tongue along the seam of Quinn's lips.

With a soft moan, Quinn's lips parted and Rachel slipped inside, groaning when kiss-plumped lips closed in around her tongue and sucked. She shifted to the right, straddling Quinn's thigh as she placed a warm hand on her waist. Fusing their lips together once more, Rachel pulled back, panting for breath as her hand rose along Quinn's ribcage. "Can I touch—here, too?" she whispered, voice surprisingly steady as she regarded Quinn.

Predictably, Quinn went silent, but for a short, eager nod that Rachel smiled at. "Under the shirt?" she went on to confirm.

Quinn flushed, eyes narrowing in a glare. "Just make sure you follow the rules, eavesdropper."

Rachel nodded happily with an amused grin, leaning down to kiss her in reassurance as her hand rose higher to cup Quinn's breast. Her entire body melted into Quinn at the feel of it, soft and firm, yielding submissively in a way that Rachel would have never described any inch of Quinn. Yet she had found something, a part of her that could be easily manipulated, and could manipulate all of Quinn as well.

It drove Rachel absolutely wild.

Her breast fit rightfully into her hand, no bigger than Rachel's own, and the familiarity was charming. And the lightest, breathy sounds of desperation would pour from Quinn's pouty, normally commanding, but now beseeching lips as she squirmed under Rachel. Her palm flexed out to encompass the entirety of Quinn's breast and, experimentally, Rachel curled her fingers in, gripping all of it and Quinn moaned sharply, blunt fingernails raking down Rachel's stomach.

The dull throbbing between her legs had increased to an ache as she watched a myriad of emotions cascade along Quinn's normally guarded face. She suddenly felt like she was intruding and buried her face into Quinn's neck with a whimper of surprise when Quinn's thigh brushed between her legs.

"Feel good?" Quinn breathed, cradling Rachel's head and placing a supportive hand behind her back as she lifted her thigh to rub against her again.

Rachel groaned into her neck, biting on her lower lip as her thumb brushed across a pebbled nipple. "Really good." She felt herself clench against nothing as her hips instinctively rocked against Quinn's thigh.

"Do you think you can—" Quinn broke off with a groan when Rachel pressed against her with more purpose. "You're so—"

"So what?" Rachel whispered breathlessly. She had long ago abandoned trying to kiss along Quinn's neck and just settled for breathing warm puffs of air against her that caused Quinn to break out into goosebumps.

"Just—I don't even _know_."

"Try."

Quinn's throat worked with effort to swallow. Then her eyes slammed shut at the feel of cooled fingertips touching the overheated flesh of her abdomen. She moaned, twisting under Rachel as a hand rose to cup her breast.

It was a tight fit, trying to work a hand under an already too tight, titillating cheerleading uniform, but Rachel was determined by nature. A taut, pebbled nipple dug into the palm of her hand in earnest as she massaged Quinn's breast through her bra.

"This is—it feels like too much," Quinn panted.

Rachel pulled back until she could see Quinn's face clearly. The sight of Quinn looking completely unhinged with dark, heavy lidded eyes, rosy pink cheeks, and swollen lips parted to take in air caused Rachel to gush. "Do you want to stop?" she whispered, oddly hoping Quinn would say no, though she didn't really know what the alternative to _not_ stopping would be.

Quinn huffed out a small laugh. "Not really."

"Rachel, I'm home!"

They both froze at the sound of Leroy calling to Rachel from downstairs. Quinn body went ram-rod straight as a look of terror crossed her features.

"Who's here?" Leroy continued. "There's a red car outside—it's not Finn, right? Didn't think his mom would buy him that. With his inability to drive and all…"

Rachel groaned in annoyance at her father's rambling, rolling off of Quinn and onto her back on the bed. Quinn sat up immediately, swinging her feet onto the floor and standing up from the bed.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked as Quinn walked over to the other side of the bed, back stiff with tension.

"I have to go," Quinn said brusquely.

"No, you—" Rachel scrambled off the bed towards Quinn as she reached down to get a shoe. She reached out for Quinn's arm and tugged her closer, taking the shoe out of her hand with a reassuring smile. "You don't have to be scared."

"I'm not."

Rachel shot her a knowing look. After dealing with this side of Quinn for a few months now, she was able to pick up on all of the signs. "My fathers are very accepting people, Quinn. They're not mean, or judgemental, or—"

"My parents?" Quinn guessed with an arched eyebrow.

Rachel clamped down on her bottom lip at the comment, choosing not to reply. It was proving a difficult feat, but she was learning. "Just…come downstairs with me."

"Rachel...you here?" Leroy intruded from downstairs.

Quinn's gaze darted to the open doorway. She shifted uncomfortably, fretting with her hair as she puffed out a long breath.

Rachel turned behind her to the door. Looking back at Quinn, she flashed a small smile before hurrying over to it. "I'm here, daddy!" she yelled back. "Give me a moment, please!" She grabbed the handle of the door, closing it behind her and locking it in a way she knew Quinn would appreciate. Proud, pale shoulders loosened in tension almost immediately, and Rachel smiled as she walked back over to her. "Will you stay?" she asked hopefully. "You can stay in here and prepare for as long as you want to. Then we can go out and meet my father. Together."

Quinn's eyebrows rose along her forehead at the sight of Rachel's wide, earnest eyes beseeching her to stay. "Rachel—"

"Please, Quinn? My fathers are harmless, show tune loving people who couldn't hurt a fly."

The corners of Quinn's mouth ticked upwards. "They're you."

"They're me," Rachel agreed with an echoing smile. "Well, technically I'm _them_—or one of them since one of their sperm provided me with life. I don't know which one is my real dad, but I appreciate the mystery—"

"I'll stay to meet him," Quinn cut in, raising her voice over Rachel in an attempt to be heard.

Rachel's face split into a wide grin and she wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist with a tiny squeal. "Wonderful!"


	26. Chapter 26

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

**A/N:** I always feel the need to thank you guys for the overwhelming reviews you shower me in. It's very much appreciated and very encouraging. But to the anons **BicornGleek** and **Wanky**(and I mean this as nicely as possible), please stop reviewing just to tell me to update. I've always updated this fic fairly often, and if for some reason I don't update, it's because I'm busy. Thank you. :) Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys the chapter! About one or two more should wrap this fic up.

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><p>As soon as they reached the steps, Quinn's hand slipped from Rachel's. Nearly tripping, Rachel swiveled around to find Quinn's gaze darting nervously from the noise coming from downstairs to Rachel.<p>

"I can't," Quinn whispered. "Not with him here."

Rachel's eyebrows knitted together in bewilderment. "He's _gay_, Quinn," she stressed. "He doesn't care."

"I care," Quinn told her.

Rachel turned to face her fully. "You shouldn't. If there is one place on this Earth where you can be yourself, it's here, Quinn."

"Rachel?" Leroy called from much closer, and Quinn looked over Rachel's shoulder as Rachel turned around to find her father at the bottom of the stairs staring at them.

Her face lit up as she flew down the steps into Leroy's arms. "Hi, daddy. I want you to meet my girlfriend, Quinn."

She gestured towards Quinn who looked painfully apprehensive as she rigidly stepped forward and extended her hand with a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

Leroy's gaze softened as he regarded her uneasy posture. "Leroy," he gently corrected, taking Quinn's hand. He pulled closer, and Quinn gasped as he pulled her into a warm hug. "And welcome, Quinn. I hope that Rachel has been hospitable."

"She has," Quinn assured as she pulled back.

"But not too hospitable."

Rachel frowned.

A red hue darkened Quinn's cheeks. "No, sir."

"Leroy," he said with a playful wink. His gaze shifted to Rachel. "Why don't you guys join me in the kitchen?"

Quinn gave a start. "I should probably be getting home."

Leroy waved her off. "Nonsense, Quinn. You were nice enough to check up on Rachel today. There's no way I can send you home without feeding you. Besides, you're Rachel's girlfriend. It's only customary that I get to know you better." With a nod of his head Leroy gestured for the girls to follow him into the kitchen.

Rachel quickly walked towards a seat, pulling out the chair beside her and grinning up at Quinn. Looking only mildly uncomfortable, Quinn sat down beside Rachel as Leroy walked over towards the counter by the stove. "I'm guessing you're feeling better now, Rachel?" he prompted, shifting his eyes between Rachel and Quinn until they both flushed in embarrassment.

Her chin lifted defiantly as she regarded Leroy. "As a matter of fact, I am, daddy. I took the proper dosage of medicine and spent the day sleeping away this dreadful cold. Quinn was just here to bring my homework."

Eyes sparkling with amusement, Leroy turned to Quinn. "Thank you for bringing Rachel her homework, Quinn."

Quinn flashed a tentative, polite smile. "It was no problem."

At the sight of Quinn's smile, Rachel's own lips ticked upwards happily. She reached out slowly, testing the waters as her hand lightly landed on Quinn's own. Quinn's gaze shot up to find Leroy humming to himself with his back turned towards the refrigerator, then back down to Rachel. Not wanting to startle her more, Rachel simply rested her hand there and turned back to Leroy as if nothing had happened. "What are you going to cook, daddy? I'm really hungry."

"You didn't tell me that," Quinn said quietly. Rachel turned to look at the frown knitting her eyebrows and drawing her lips downwards. "I could have—I don't know…cooked something."

Rachel's heart fluttered at the heartfelt urgency in Quinn's voice. How the hell was she supposed to _not_ hold Quinn's hand when she was acting like this? "It's fine, Quinn, really," she assured. Her cheeks dusted pink as she pitched her voice lower to whisper, "Frankly, I didn't want either of us leaving my room."

"Not to interrupt this moment," Leroy cut in around the same time Quinn's jaw dropped at how blunt Rachel's statement was. "But—Quinn? Do you like lasagna?"

"Yes, si—Leroy," Quinn answer with a nod.

"_Vegan_ lasagna?"

She faltered, pausing then answering. "I've never had that before."

"Daddy, that's going to take all day to cook," Rachel told him.

"Nonsense. I can have it done in an hour." His gaze shined in challenge. "Time me."

"Fine." Rachel stood, pulling down the hem of the shirt she had managed to wrestle on before bounding down the stairs with Quinn. She walked around the counters towards the cabinets, reaching up to grab the timer. Only, she had underestimated her height during her proud march over and ended up swiping her hand just under the cabinets while standing on the tips of her toes.

A light, girlish giggle came from behind her and, surprised, Rachel whirled around to find Quinn laughing at…Leroy, of all people. Cutting her dark gaze to Leroy, Rachel saw him pointing at her with an amused grin on his face. "It's not funny," Rachel declared as she folded her arms across her chest with a huff. "Some of us are just vertically challenged."

"I think she means 'short'," Leroy stage whispered to Quinn, and she chuckled more.

Though Rachel was wholly put out by everyone laughing at her expense, it felt good to see Quinn slowly relaxing. She was a far cry from the domineering, outspoken Head Cheerio she was at school, and though cute, it made Rachel a little uneasy to see Quinn so nervous.

"_Anyway_," she stressed once they had both calmed down. She looked to her father pointedly. "Can you get the timer for me, please?"

Leroy walked over and plucked the timer easily from the cabinet. "One hour," he told her, turning the dial until it hit sixty minutes.

"And if you can't make it in an hour," Rachel began as she walked back over to the table, "then you owe Quinn cookies for dessert."

Quinn's eyes widened at her inclusion in their little game. Rachel smiled over at her as she placed her hand lightly against Quinn's once more.

"And if I _can_ make it in an hour, then _you_ owe Quinn cookies. You know, the _non_-sexual kind," he amended.

"Daddy!" Rachel cried as Quinn reddened in embarrassment.

Leroy shrugged as he fished a large glass pan from a cabinet beneath the counters. "I'm hip to the slang of today's youth."

Rachel rubbed her thumb across the back of Quinn's hand as she turned to look at her. "This isn't so bad, is it?" she asked lowly so her father wouldn't hear. "Barring the embarrassing euphemisms."

The color was just leaving Quinn's face when she answered. "It's a little…embarrassing. But I—he's really…open," she whispered back in surprise. "And nice."

"He's me," Rachel chirped with a proud smile.

Quinn nodded. "This is kind of weird," she admitted.

Rachel smiled, taking it as a compliment. "We don't hide here, Quinn."

"So, Quinn," Leroy began from a few feet away, separated from them by a countertop. "Are you a sophomore as well?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "He's knows what you are. I talk about you all the time. He's just fulfilling some 'fatherly' duties that he feels he has."

"Hey, hey, I take those duties very seriously," Leroy defended. "Now, Quinn—sophomore?"

"Yes, Leroy," Quinn answered as respectfully as she possibly could while lacking the last name formality.

"And judging from your outfit, I would guess you're a cheerleader, correct?"

Quinn nodded. "Head Cheerio."

Her voice had suddenly gained more confidence, and Rachel smiled. She slid her hand around until her hand palm was along the back of Quinn's, her fingers gripping Quinn's palm.

Leroy was quiet for a moment, and Rachel's gaze slid over to him. All the color drained from her face at one look at his. That was his thinking face. He stared at her for a long moment, then his gaze flicked to Quinn. "You and Rachel were fighting over a boy, correct?"

Rachel's eyes widened as Quinn stiffened at her side. With pleading eyes, Rachel shook her head minutely back and forth. Quinn's hand slid from hers, and she sighed, dropping her head and lolling it to the side to face Quinn.

"She and I…were," Quinn agreed after a moment. Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth in apprehension. "But I—we're past that."

"Obviously," Rachel said, glaring over at Leroy. She knew what subject he was carefully trying to broach and beseeched him not to, willing his acquiescence with her eyes.

Leroy watched Quinn for a long moment. She couldn't quite meet his eyes as Rachel worked to hold her hand again, and his gaze began to soften as her nervousness became more apparent. His gaze dropped towards the wet noodles he was separating. "Well, I'm glad everything worked out," he said, voice suddenly quiet and gentle.

"Maybe I should g—"

"No," Rachel cut in. "I don't want you go," she whined.

"You can't leave," Leroy cajoled. "You haven't had the chance to taste one of Rachel's famous cookies!"

"Though, daddy's cookies aren't as delicious as mine, I can attest to the fact that you will enjoy his," Rachel told her, twisting in her chair to face Quinn more fully. She held her hand tightly with a reassuring smile. "I know you're nervous," she whispered. "But you're doing well."

"I don't feel like I am," Quinn whispered back in that strained, breathless voice that Rachel had come to associate with the fact that Quinn's heart was beating fast as she spoke.

"You are," Rachel insisted. "You're wonderful, and I want my father to get to know how wonderful you are. Please stay?"

Quinn's eyes drifted from Rachel to Leroy once again humming to himself merrily as he placed the lasagna in the oven. Her hand twitched in Rachel's grip as she looked back towards her. "I guess this is…kind of normal compared to how my house has been lately."

"Quinn," Rachel murmured sadly. "I'm so sor—"

"Don't. I—" Quinn waved it off. "It's fine."

"It's not."

"I don't—not in front of your dad, okay? It's fine. We've already discussed it anyway."

More than anything, Rachel wanted to fix the mess she had created between Quinn and her parents, and was beginning to fixate on it a bit, but the second Quinn closed the conversation down Rachel's lips clacked shut. "Okay," she finally whispered. "Just…know that you're always welcomed here, Quinn," she couldn't help but add. "Whenever—day, night."

"What am I—a stray dog?" Quinn replied in a deflective joke.

"You're my girlfriend," Rachel answered earnestly. "And I want to be here for you."

Quinn opened her mouth to say something, then stopped short, looking borderline shy as she always did whenever Rachel made one of her bold declarations.

Leroy smiled, grabbing the timer and walking towards the table to sit in front of them. "Time me," he demanded, turning the tiny device towards them. He rested both elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. "Have I ever told you the story of when I met Hiram's parents?"

Rachel had heard the story several times before but exaggeratedly shook her head no anyway, hoping to ease Quinn's worries with her father's painfully awkward story.

"An utter disaster," Leroy immediately prefaced with a dramatic eye roll and fond smile. "Hiram had told me he had come out to his parents already." Leroy leveled Quinn with a blank stare. "Big lie."

Quinn gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. "No way," she mumbled, blinking rapidly.

"Way," Leroy confirmed. "My out-and-proud boyfriend hadn't even come out to his parents. He had been waiting for me to show up. For courage, he later told me."

"How did it go?" Quinn asked immediately, hanging on to his every word. Her fingers unconsciously tightened against Rachel's own and Rachel used the opportunity to intertwine their fingers. She looked up with a victorious smile.

"Have you ever tried to come out to Orthodox Jewish parents? It was the _worst_. _Dreadfully_ awkward. I got blamed for making Hiram gay."

Quinn scoffed. "You can't _make_ someone gay."

Rachel's eyes widened as pride swelled in her chest at the sound of Quinn's adamant voice making such a claim. She was so in love with this girl she feared she'd go insane.

Leroy nodded. "That's what I told them." He waved the situation off. "But Hiram and I—we survived it, mainly because we had each other even though I was upset with him for not telling me that we'd _both_ be coming out to his Jewish parents who thought he would marry a nice Jewish girl. But, it makes for a good story, right?" he asked them with a small chuckle.

"It's very…interesting," Quinn said.

"It sounds very familiar," Rachel murmured when Quinn wouldn't. Honestly, she had heard this story from her father several times before, and for the life of her she still couldn't figure how that story slipped her mind when she decided to come out to Quinn's parents.

Quinn looked over at her, squeezing her fingers as if knowing where her thoughts were and telling her to snap out of it.

"After that I thought I could do anything," Leroy continued. "Like, be out and proud in Lima, Ohio of all places, with a daughter…and her girlfriend."

To Rachel's surprise, Quinn gave a thin, tentative smile back to her father.

The timer dinged in front of them and Rachel and Leroy focused wide, excited eyes on each other before Leroy quickly stood from the table. "Now, Quinn, this is the deciding factor," he claimed as he slid his hands into a pair of oven mitts. "Whether you'll have my scrumptious cookies, or Rachel's second rate, but still great cookies."

"Mine are better," Rachel declared succinctly.

Leroy moved the pan from the oven and placed it on the stove top with a grin.

* * *

><p>Rachel placed a sheet of plastic wrap around her plate of freshly baked cookies to keep them warm and fresh as she pouted. There was one on a napkin beside her and she grabbed it and the plate, walking over to the table and handing it to Leroy.<p>

"To the victor go the spoils," Leroy declared smugly. "Thanks, sweetheart."

Rachel huffed out a response and stalked up the stairs without another word. She was, most of the time, the very definition of a sore loser, and Leroy always got his fill by teasing her for it.

She walked upstairs to her room where Quinn would be, gathering her belongings to go home. Rachel's feet dragged with every step she took in melancholy for the fact that Quinn couldn't stay longer. She reached her room to find the door wide open and slowly walked inside. Inside, Quinn had her hands clasped behind her back, looking over the posters on Rachel's pale yellow walls.

Quinn turned around at the squeak of the floorboards, and froze at the sight of Rachel slowly walking into the room.

Rachel lifted the plate of cookies with a small smile at the look on Quinn's face. "Your cookies as promised."

A smile tugged Quinn's lips upwards as she walked towards Rachel. "You didn't really have to make these for me," she murmured, as she took the plate full of cookies.

Rachel shrugged. "I never back down from a challenge."

Quinn smirked with a little roll of her eyes. "Don't I know it." She turned the plate around as she sat on Rachel's bed, lips quivering with a smile at the sight of the smiley faces and hearts Rachel engraved into the cookies.

Rachel plopped down beside her, resting her head on Quinn's shoulder. "I really don't want you to go home," she mumbled.

Quinn looked over to the head of dark brown hair resting against her shoulder. She brought a hand up, hesitated, then finally brushed along Rachel's unruffled bangs. "I don't really want to go home either," she admitted after a moment.

Rachel shot up from Quinn's shoulder, looking up at her. "Then stay the night," she pleaded.

Quinn smiled teasingly. "It's a school night. I have to go home."

"But you don't like being home," Rachel countered with a pout.

Quinn hesitated for only a moment, running her tongue along her own lower lip as if that could assuage her hunger before she swooped down, trapping Rachel's bottom lip between her teeth and nipping harshly.

"Ow!" Rachel squeaked, pulling back. Her pupils dilated as she sucked on her lower lip. "That hurt, Quinn."

"Then stop contradicting me," Quinn said lowly with a daring eyebrow lift.

Completely stunned, yet grudgingly turned on, Rachel's jaw dropped as she gaped openly at Quinn. With another pout and frustrated growl, Rachel lunged for Quinn, pressing their lips firmly together, smothering Quinn's giggle as she fell back onto the bed.

Rachel settled on top of her, blowing her bangs out of her eyes with a huff as she glared down at Quinn. "You're too rough."

"You like it," Quinn accused right back. Her eyes sparkled as she brought a hand up to smooth Rachel's bangs down.

Rachel blushed revealingly, dipping her head to bury into Quinn's neck. She felt slim arms wrap around her, hands pressing into her back to bring her closer and sighed. "Will you call me tonight?" she murmured, puckering her lips to place them against the column of Quinn's throat. If she sat still and held her breath, she could feel Quinn's heartbeat, quick and erratic against her chest.

Nimble fingers drumming along her back stuttered and clutched at her as her teeth grazed along Quinn's neck. "Yeah," Quinn breathed. "After homework, or something…"

She sounded completely distracted, and Rachel grinned. After a few moments of just resting against her, Rachel pulled back, knowing Quinn would have to go home soon.

"Maybe you could come over this weekend," Rachel suggested as Quinn lugged her duffel bag onto her shoulder.

Quinn turned back around to her with a small chuckle. "Okay, okay. I'll see what I can do."

Rachel reached forward and grabbed Quinn's hand, pulling her along. "I'll walk you out."

There was no sign of Leroy in sight, thankfully, and Rachel pulled Quinn towards the door, swiveling around to place a kiss against her cheek. "Thanks again for bringing my homework," she whispered, feeling shy all of a sudden as her gaze dipped.

"You're welcome." Quinn placed a hand under Rachel's chin, lifting it until she could see her eyes, wide and sincere as always. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"And call me tonight," Rachel reminded.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Sure," she drawled.

Rachel quickly wrapped her arms around Quinn, molding their bodies together. She didn't want to let Quinn go, especially after spending the afternoon with her and all the progress they had made. She tightened her arms around Quinn with a sigh. "I love you."

"Are we going to be one of _those_ couples?" Quinn asked with a laugh, unaware of how Rachel's heart rate sped up at Quinn using the word _couple_ to describe them.

"I'd like for us to be," Rachel mumbled against her shoulder. "Granted, I don't expect you to be the type of person to loudly scream your love for me in a crowded room, or-or always shower me in lavish gifts to show your love, because your love is—"

"I love you, too," Quinn cut in quietly.

Rachel melted against her as Quinn's words wafted towards her ear. She pressed a kiss against her shoulder, murmuring, "Your love is…quiet. And I didn't understand it at first, but now I do. It's just _there_—I don't have to question it, really."

"And how did you learn all of that, hmm?" Quinn asked, toying with the back of Rachel's shirt.

"Let me count the ways," Rachel said, playing along. She pulled back to rest an elbow on her hip as she began to tick off a list. "You brought my homework over."

"Mhm," Quinn hummed.

"You agreed to be my girlfriend."

"That's a big one."

Rachel grinned. "You tend to get a bit jealous when I give attention to others."

"I…" Quinn stopped talking, reddening in embarrassment. "Let's go to the next one."

"Last but certainly not least," Rachel prefaced. "You told me you love me."

Quinn ducked her head, hoisting her bag higher along her shoulder with a sheepish smile. "I guess I did."

Not being able to go long without contact, Rachel grabbed her hand again, pulling her forward as she rested against the door. "Kiss goodbye?"

"I'm not going to war, Berry," Quinn quipped even as she leaned closer.

They kissed lightly, and all too soon, Quinn was out the door, sliding into a little red sports car and pulling out of the driveway. Rachel watched her go with a sigh.

"She's a good kid," Leroy said from somewhere nearby.

Rachel closed the door once Quinn was out of sight and walked back towards the kitchen, misplacing her affection for Quinn onto Leroy as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Thank you for not bringing the whole bullying thing up."

"I was going to," Leroy warned.

"I know. But Quinn was already nervous enough and bringing that up would have made things worse."

"She needs to know that we haven't forgotten—"

"Neither has she, daddy. In fact, when I told her that I liked to pretend it didn't happen, _she_ was the one to tell me that it did, and that I needed to acknowledge that it did. She recognizes it, daddy, and she's sorry for it. I don't want to dwell on it when she and I already have her sexuality to deal with."

Leroy was quiet for a long moment, stroking Rachel's hair. Finally, he sighed. "She reminds me of myself."

"I could tell," Rachel agreed.

He laughed. "She was _so_ nervous."

"She was," Rachel agreed with a giggle. "So timid, I was surprised."

"Are things still awkward with her and her parents?"

"Yes," Rachel sighed. "Apparently her mother is waiting for her to come out of the closet."

Leroy pulled away, brow furrowed as he stared at Rachel. "So, her mother already suspects something?"

Rachel nodded.

"And she's just waiting for Quinn to come out?"

"Essentially."

He mulled over the predicament for a moment. "Then maybe things won't be so bad—if her mother already knows."

Rachel bit her lip in contemplation. She had never thought of it that way, and wondered if it had ever occurred to Quinn that perhaps if Judy already thought she was gay and was just waiting for Quinn to say something, the consequences may not be as bad as Quinn had originally thought.

"Either way, just let her know that she's always welcomed here," Leroy told her.

"I did," Rachel confirmed with a smile, thankful for the parents she had. "And she'll be coming over this weekend," she chirped happily, glad to be spending time with Quinn.

Her girlfriend.


	27. Chapter 27

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

**A/N:** Soooo, how great was Faberry in last night's episode?

* * *

><p>"Okay, Rachel, spill," Kurt demanded.<p>

"Spill what, exactly?" Rachel asked with a coy smile as she avoided Kurt's gaze while fishing her geometry textbook out of her locker.

Kurt stepped forward while unfolding his arms to close her locker. He grabbed Rachel by the shoulders, turning her around to face him. "Girl. You have been stringing me along all morning. Tell me what happened between you and Queen Fabray yesterday."

Rachel grinned as she spotted Quinn walking down the hallway from behind Kurt. She was dressed neatly as always in her Cheerios uniform with her ponytail resting proudly atop her head. Santana and Brittany flanked her from a few steps back, smirking at each other as they continued down the hallway.

Rachel leaned back against her locker as Quinn came closer. Her heart sped up as Quinn turned to look at her. The smug smirk on Quinn's face twitched into an almost shy smile as she looked away, ducking her head for a moment before completely composing herself. She looked back up with a haughty expression that made Rachel hot against her will as Quinn continued down the hallway.

"Ooooh, something most definitely _did_ happen!" Kurt cajoled as Rachel watched Quinn continue towards her locker.

She turned back around with a whimsical sigh, hooking a thumb behind her with a giant grin. "That's my girlfriend."

Kurt's jaw dropped. "No way."

Her smiled widened impossibly. "Way."

"No _way_."

"Way!" she squealed.

"This is the juiciest gossip I've heard in…ever!" he declared in excitement, eyes alight.

"I know, right? Who would have thought that I would ever be dating her?" Her cheeks burned from smiling so hard as she sunk back against her locker once more with a sigh. "I'm in love, Kurt."

He clasped his hands together under his chin. "I feel like I've stepped into a young adult romance novel."

Rachel rolled her eyes playfully, hoisting her books to rest against her chest as she pushed off the lockers. "I have to go to class now. There's this boy, Lance, with horrible body odor—he likes to steal my seat on the front row of English class if I don't get there on time."

"You should just buy a can of Lysol and just spray him. Just spray." Kurt mimed a can in his hand and pretended to spray all around him, and Rachel giggled.

"I'll keep that in mind," she called back to him, walking down the hallway with a pep in her step. The student body at large was the same as it was every day. No one knew she was dating the most popular girl in school, and Rachel smiled secretively to herself. She and Quinn had been McKinley's best kept secret for months now. The mystery of it all made her heart flutter.

She rounded the corner of the hallway and nearly ran into Santana. Taking a step back to put a respectful amount of distance between them, Rachel smiled. "Good morning, Santana. I trust that you're well today."

Santana placed a hand against the wall to casually lean against it. "Doing just well, Berry. I heard things are going just _swimmingly_ for you."

Her cheeks darkened with a blush, oddly proud as she murmured, "Quinn told you, huh?"

Santana shrugged. "It was weird to see her actually be _normal_ and somewhat excited about something."

Rachel's heart fluttered at the thought of making Quinn happy. "Well, I'm happy that she's happy."

"I didn't come here to talk about the ins and outs of your boring relationship, Berry. Now, listen up," Santana told her. "I didn't think I would ever say this, but…seeing as you're Quinn's girlfriend, and you and me and B are sorta friends now, you're part of the fold."

She bit her lip to stifle a squeal of excitement, hopping a little in place and moving towards Santana, who stiff-armed her against the shoulder to keep her at arm's length. "No hugging," Santana declared, smirking a little in amusement. "_Anyway_, what I'm really trying to say is welcome, blah, blah, blah." She then suddenly sobered up like a switch had been flipped, her gaze serious as she regarded Rachel. "But you better not hurt Q."

Rachel almost smiled at how protective Santana was of Quinn. She would probably never understand the friendship that Quinn, Santana, and Brittany shared. It was a shallow friendship with depth to it—a paradox of some form in which the participants didn't really trust each other, weren't always loyal, yet protected each other nonetheless.

"I won't," Rachel answered sincerely. Then amended with, "That is to say, not intentionally. She and I may argue. A lot, actually. But I-I love her, you see, and—"

"That's enough, Berry," Santana griped with a small smile and an eye roll. "That's good enough."

Rachel smiled back.

* * *

><p>Since rounding second base like a champ, Rachel had been finding it difficult to focus in school all day. All that kept replaying in her mind like the most arousing broken record in existence were the quiet, barely there whimpers that had made it past Quinn's swollen red lips when the palm of Rachel's hand brushed across her nipple.<p>

And when Quinn had whispered, "_Not_ _really_," when Rachel had asked her if she wanted to stop had Rachel already lifting Quinn's Cheerio top off in her mind's eye, drawing on past memories to imagine Quinn in only her sports bra, taut abs bunching as Rachel ran her fingernails down them.

Her phone buzzed and Rachel jumped suddenly, hitting her knee on the desk with a wince. From the corner of her eye, she saw Molly eying her in concern, though amusement swirled in clear blue eyes. "Are you okay?"

Plastering on a smile and ignoring what was sure to be a bruise on her knee, Rachel turned to her. "I'm alright. I was simply startled, that's all."

She turned back to her desk once Molly seemed to be satisfied enough with that answer. It was a wonder how they were still friends, Rachel mused as she flipped open her phone. She was honestly such a spaz around Molly most of the time that she wondered why Molly still bothered to talk to her. A grin split her face when she looked down at her phone and saw a message from Quinn, and suddenly the bruise on her knee paled in comparison to the fact that Quinn was texting her in school.

_**I was just given "the talk"…from Kurt.**_

Rachel clutched her hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle, imaging how put out Quinn must have been feeling right now. Her lips turned downwards into a sympathetic pout as she typed back a reply.

_**Was "the talk" he gave you the sexual one that parents give their adolescent children? Or more of a protective one? Though I can't imagine Kurt giving advice on lesbian relationships.**_

The text sent, and she inhaled a deep breath, wondering how Quinn would react, if at all, to her use of the word lesbian. They were at a wonderful place and Rachel didn't want to push for Quinn to define her sexuality so rigidly, but the fact of the matter was that Quinn was participating in a lesbian relationship and words like _lesbian_ shouldn't have to be taboo.

Her phone buzzed not much longer later and she anxiously flipped it open to read the new text.

_**The protective one. As if I'm actually afraid of him, his badly cut side bangs, and his kilt that was so last season. -_-**_

The funny part was that Rachel could actually picture Quinn making the exact same face as the emoticon she used. She felt oddly proud of Kurt for facing Quinn head on to give her 'the talk'. A sentimental smile touched her lips as she reflected over the friendship she had fostered with Kurt. It had started off relatively shallow at first with Kurt only caring about her because she was gay, but they had bonded over that and more since then and were turning out to be the best of friends.

_**No need to be mean. :P Kurt was just being (surprisingly) protective of me. :) Besides, I got the same talk from Santana a couple of hours ago.**_

With excitement swirling within her enough to make her head spin, she went back to taking notes. It wasn't long before her mind drifted again, back to Quinn squirming underneath her, the restrained moans dripping from her haughty mouth. Rachel was beginning to learn that there was so much more to Quinn than the arrogance she wore like a second skin during school. But the thought that the same arrogant girl who demanded respect was the same girl who had been between Rachel's thighs yesterday, straining against her, and—

Luckily she didn't cause a scene by hitting her leg this time when her phone vibrated.

_**Really? That's actually kind of funny when I picture how that conversation must have gone. She wasn't mean, was she?**_

_**Not particularly. She just told me not to hurt you. Which I, of course, have no intention of doing. :)**_

_**What are you doing after school?**_ was the message immediately sent back to her.

Glee club didn't practice today and, aside from going home, running scales and cracking into some homework, Rachel really didn't have any pressing matters to attend to, and she sent just that to Quinn.

The bell signaling the end of class rang and Rachel rose from her seat, gathering her books. She checked her phone one more time before leaving class and internally—and maybe a little externally—squealed in excitement at what it said.

_**You should stop by my practice. And watch me. :)**_

* * *

><p>She bounced down the hallway to stop at Quinn's locker with a giant smile on her face. It honestly took all the willpower Rachel had to not reach out and wrap Quinn in her arms, plant one right on her lips. But they were in a crowded hallway; Quinn wouldn't appreciate it and Rachel was also less inclined to do so.<p>

Quinn's lips quirked upwards as she turned back to her locker. "I'm assuming you got my text."

Rachel nodded enthusiastically. "And I would love to stay after school to watch you practice."

Making out in the locker room afterward again would have been nice, too. But they had almost gotten caught the first time, which pretty much meant that risking it a second time was suicide.

Quinn closed her locker to turn towards Rachel, leaning her left shoulder against her shut locker. Her eyes were sharp as they subtly raked down Rachel's body before meeting her eyes again.

Rachel flushed.

"Hey," Finn greeted, drawing out the word as he approached the pair. Quinn straightened, all expression wiping off her face as if someone had squeegeed it off. Finn came to a stop in front of them, his eyes shifting from Rachel to Quinn. "I just wanted to say congratulations," he said with a nod as if to convince himself. He hoisted his book bag higher along his shoulder, tightly gripping the strap as Quinn very slowly turned to Rachel.

"You told him?" Quinn hissed, ignoring Finn's presence.

Rachel opened her mouth to negate the claim, but Finn was the first to speak up.

"I heard from Kurt." At Quinn's horror stricken face, he continued. "It's not like you didn't know he and I knew already. It's cool, dude, promise."

"Don't call me dude," she snapped back.

"If I may interject," Rachel interjected. She turned to Finn with a gracious smile, recognizing how awkward it must have been for him to wish his two exes good luck with each other. "Thank you, Finn. We appreciate it."

"Speak for yourself." Quinn turned to direct a sharp glare at Finn. "You better not tell anyone about this, Finn."

"Dud—_Quinn_," he corrected. "I've known about this for months, and I haven't told anyone. Just calm down. I just came to wish you guys luck anyway."

There was no retort from Quinn as her posture, previously leaned forward and prepared for attack, eased back into her own personal space, her shoulders loosening in tension. "Do you mean that?"

Finn nodded, taking the opening. "I was just gonna say that…I care about you both. So, treat each other right."

They both just kind of smiled, shyly, and murmured some form of affirmative.

* * *

><p>Watching football and cheering practices was a lot more fun now that Rachel didn't have to stress over her confusing sexuality that really hadn't been all that confusing. She had just been trying to make herself attracted to something that she ultimately didn't really gel with.<p>

What she _did_ gel with were the Cheerios and their bouncing ponytails, among other things, prancing onto the field. Particularly one Cheerio who had stolen her heart months ago and showed no signs of giving it back. But that was okay because Rachel was pretty sure she had Quinn's heart, locked tightly away where she could protect and nurture it.

Their practice was tedious and, more often than not, full of cheerleaders crying and vomiting. Coach Sylvester wasn't a woman who was easy to please and it was obvious in the way the cheerleaders had to perform tasks over and over and over again.

After about a half hour filled with clapping and back handsprings—which Rachel noticed with interest that Quinn could do exceptionally well. She must have been a gymnast in a past life—Sue loudly called Quinn over. Quinn jogged over to Sue who had been walking towards the exit of the gate near where Rachel was sitting.

Rachel perked up at the sight of Quinn only a few feet away conversing with Sue. Athleticism suited her. There was a thin sheen of sweat that made Rachel tug on her bottom lip as pale skin shimmered from the sun. Her chest heaved with the WMHS logo provacatively adorning it in black, red, and white. But Quinn's ponytail was still in place, her hands placed squarely on her hips, and her shoulders rolled easily back, narrowed eyes squinting as Quinn attempted to look up at Sue whose back was to the sun.

Rachel's breath hitched when hazel eyes strayed towards her momentarily once Sue turned her back and began walking away. Quinn gave a small, flirtatious smile that Rachel eagerly returned with a blush, before she ran back onto the field.

Quinn led the rest of practice, and Rachel marveled at her leadership abilities, how she was able to make the entire squad of melding egos do as she asked with minimal groans of protest from the other girls. The only one who actually mouthed off was Santana and Rachel suspected it was just because Santana knew she could get away with it because they were friends.

It wasn't until another half hour later after several laps around the football field that Quinn dismissed them. Right away five cheerleaders just collapsed onto the ground. The rest trudged from the field, looking like zombies as they walked towards the exit of the fence where Rachel was sitting just off to the left outside of the fence on the bleachers.

They gathered their bags, and Rachel shifted uncomfortably when she noticed about three of them set their eyes on her like hungry wolves who smelled blood. Rachel recognized two of them as Megan and Emily, the same girls she had encountered in the bathroom weeks ago, the day when Quinn had taught her how to apply eyeliner. Quinn had told the two girls that they were friends now and to leave Rachel alone, but as Rachel stared at the discontented looks on their faces…she wasn't sure they got the memo.

Megan, as Rachel remembered, hoisted her Cheerios issued duffel bag along her shoulder, making her way towards the bleachers. Rachel's spine straightened as she stood, caught between simply scurrying away to avoid confrontation or facing this head on.

"Is there a problem?"

They both turned to find Quinn walking through the fence towards them. The tension in Rachel's shoulders eased as Megan tensed. "What is she doing hanging out at _our_ practice?" Megan hissed, looking completely disgusted by the very idea, though Rachel had watched the Cheerios practice before more times than she could count.

Rachel took offense immediately, a huff of annoyance puffing out of her mouth as she crossed her arms over her chest. No, she wouldn't be leaving, after all. She was going to stand right here, if only to further spite this Quinn-knock off.

"I invited her," Quinn said.

It was like one of those movies in which a show-off happens and a hush falls over the crowd. Rachel looked to where Megan's eyes narrowed at the comment. When she looked back over to Quinn, Santana and Brittany were now there. Santana weaseled her way past Quinn and Brittany to walk towards Megan. "Problem?"

They all spoke the same, had the same domineering attitudes, and Rachel had to wonder how all of them kept from ripping each other's ponytails out on a daily basis.

"She's the school _loser_, in case you forgot that," Megan spat with disdain, flicking her eyes from Rachel to Quinn, then Santana. "We make fun of girls like her. Hell, we make fun of _her_."

Rachel's chest heaved with a quick intake of breath, then collapsed in onto itself. She lowered her gaze as thoughts ran wildly in her head. She should have seen a day like this coming—there was no way she could bump elbows with the most popular girl in school and not have any repercussions for it. But to have that moment here, now, made things so incredibly real instead of a vague thought that someone was soon going to come along and put her in her place.

"You want me to handle this, Q?" Santana asked.

Rachel looked over towards Quinn to find her straightening, as if she had momentarily forgotten that _she_ was the one in charge and everyone else was playing subordinate. "Everyone hit the showers," Quinn told them. Her voice had lowered gravely to leave no room for argument as everyone took off besides two notable people.

Megan sighed and turned around toward the school. "Everyone, except you," Quinn continued.

Megan stopped in her tracks and slowly turned around to find Quinn walking towards her.

Quinn was shorter, Rachel noted, yet Megan still seemed to visibly shrink in size anyway as Quinn came to a stop in front of her, hands square on her hips. Her entire face was pinched with annoyance that Quinn didn't bother to contain as she stared Megan down. "I told you she was on my team. You don't get to question that. I told you I invited her. _You_ don't get to question that," Quinn gritted out through her teeth, anger noticeably boiling through the pinch of her eyebrows. "But you don't seem to _get_ that," she punctuated in a way that made Megan flinch. "So, you know what? Run laps until you do. Four."

Megan's jaw dropped. "You've got to be kidding me."

Quinn looked around to Rachel, Brittany, and Santana. "Am I known for my humor?"

"This chick ain't funny," Santana vouched with a snicker of amusement. "At all."

Rachel stood in silence as she watched Quinn whip her ponytail back around in authority as she faced Megan again. "Well, there you have it. I wasn't kidding in the slightest. Now go."

Megan's hands clenched into fists by her side. She stalked by Quinn, narrowly missing shoulder checking her, and Quinn looked over her shoulder daringly as Megan walked back toward the field.

Speechless, Rachel could do little more than watch Megan take off in a light jog around the football field.

"Don't worry about her," Quinn said, voice relatively back to normal as Rachel turned toward her. "She's just jealous, that's all."

Rachel gawked at her. "Jealous about what?" She was the 'school loser' as Megan had so charitably pointed out, so there was no reason for jealousy.

"Because you're close to us and the rest of the squad isn't," Santana informed her with an obnoxious cackle. "They're all pretty jealous."

"It's kinda funny," Brittany joined in.

Quinn walked closer to the group, looking toward Brittany and Santana. "You guys can go ahead and take showers if you want."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Be more obvious, Q." She reached out for Brittany's hand and they linked pinkies. "Try not to deflower the poor, innocent bleachers while we're gone."

Quinn sucked her teeth in annoyance and Rachel smiled uneasily as the pair walked away towards the school. Once they were out of sight, Quinn turned toward her. "Are you okay?"

Rachel sighed, and returned to her seat on the bleachers. "I'm fine, actually," she mumbled as Quinn sat down beside her. Rachel scooted closer, looking shy as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "It was very noble of you to come to my rescue like that."

Quinn waved it off. "Now you get to watch her run four laps until she passes out."

"Quinn," Rachel admonished.

"What? That's what she deserves."

Her eyes strayed to the lanky brunette who was on her second lap, already panting and out of breath. It kind of felt wrong, punishing Megan and watching her carry out that punishment. Rachel didn't really want to do that. She didn't want to further dwell on someone calling her a loser. So, she stood up, brushing down the back of her skirt. "Let's go inside."

Quinn looked up at her in uncertainty. "She's only on her second lap. If we leave, she won't finish them all."

It was probably true, but Rachel didn't care. "I would much prefer to spend time with you rather than watching some girl who dislikes me run laps as punishment."

Reluctance was apparent in Quinn's posture as she rose slowly from the bleachers with a sigh. "Fine, we can go."

They found themselves in the auditorium, behind the curtains shrouded in darkness. The door closed behind them rather loudly and Rachel gave a small jump, causing Quinn to giggle as they found their way in the dark.

Rachel felt along the wall for the dim light she knew was there and flicked the switch until it was on. The stage lit up to illuminate a piano several feet in front of them. "Is this where you take all your dates?" Quinn asked.

Rachel turned to find Quinn giving her a peculiar look. Realization dawned on her that this was where she had had her picnic with Finn and Quinn probably knew that. She colored in embarrassment, smoothing down the front of her skirt to keep her hands from nervously wringing together as she stepped closer. "No," she answered softly. "And if you're referring to Finn—I would never plan a picnic for you…here. Though I hope picnic dates aren't _completely_ banned because of the fact that I made him one."

"Good," was all Quinn answered with. She turned to sit atop the piano bench, eying the dusty keys with interest before she turned to look over her shoulder to Rachel. "And, they're not."

Dark eyebrows shot up along Rachel's forehead. Well, _that_ was certainly a good thing. Not only were picnics not off the menu for dates, but there would be actual _dates_. Though she didn't know when, and couldn't be bothered with those logistics right this second as she walked closer to Quinn. She stood behind her, tentatively placing her hands on strong shoulders as Quinn toyed around with the piano.

Quinn's motions turned slow until her fingers lifted from the piano. They plopped down into her lap, and she sighed.

"What are you thinking about?" Rachel whispered after a moment, gliding her hands along Quinn's shoulders. The tips of her fingers kneaded into soft skin with care as she drank in every inch of Quinn available to her.

Quinn sat there, back rigid for a long moment. Finally, she muttered, "Did either of your dads ever regret coming out?"

Rachel's fingers faltered along Quinn's spine on the back of her neck at the question. Quinn used the opportunity to spin around in Rachel's arms until they were facing each other. Her gaze washed over what she could see of Rachel, then her eyebrows furrowed in concern. She reached out, fingers ghosting over Rachel's knee with a frown. "You have a bruise," Quinn murmured.

Rachel cleared her throat. "I, uh, hit my knee on a desk earlier."

Quinn chuckled, wrapping her hand around the back of Rachel's knee and rubbing her thumb across the bruise. "Klutz."

Rachel rolled her eyes with a playful smile, choosing not to comment and luxuriate in the way Quinn touched her. "Anyway, if either one of them regretted it at any point in their lives, they have failed to inform me," Rachel said carefully. From the way Quinn was biting her lower lip she knew gears were turning in that pretty blonde head of hers and wanted to be privy to those thoughts.

"And you haven't regretted it either, right?" Quinn asked, looking up at her.

Unexpectedly, Rachel felt something in her lower stomach twist hotly at the sight of Quinn's head near her hips and stomach, and the way Quinn's thumb on her knee had traveled higher a fraction of an inch. Her legs suddenly felt wobbly and she found it hard to concentrate on what was most probably shaping up to be a very serious conversation. With an exhale, she answered. "I'm not really out, I would say."

"But your parents know."

Rachel nodded. "They do. And, no. No, I haven't regretted telling them."

Quinn looked away then, eyes downcast as she took her bottom lip between her teeth. Rachel swallowed thickly as nerves ate away at her brain. She stooped lower, bending at the knees and resting them against the floor as she kneeled before Quinn. Her left knee protested, but she ignored it in favor of reaching out to cup Quinn's cheek and pulling her around until they were facing each other.

"Quinn, you don't have to tell your parents if you don't want to," Rachel found herself saying, a far cry from how she had felt just shy of a week ago. But she had since seen the repercussions that come from coming out of the closet, and didn't want Quinn to go through with it if she wasn't ready for it.

Then again after the conversation she had had with her father yesterday there really did seem to be a distinct possibility that Quinn's parents, or at the very least, her mother, already knew about Quinn's sexuality and the repercussions wouldn't be so dire. "Don't do this because you think this is something I want," she continued in a near frantic whisper, imploring Quinn to understand.

Pink lips twisted into a smile that lacked happiness and amusement, but wasn't wholly sad either. "What if this has nothing to do with you?" Quinn said in a strained voice. "What if this is about me? What if I'm just sick and tired of feeling like I have something weighing me down?"

The revelation made Rachel's breath hitch along with the earnest way Quinn's eyes pierced right through to the very core of her with an inner need of being understood and accepted.

She felt breathless as her mouth opened and closed with false starts as to what to say. Because this wasn't just Quinn anymore, this was her _girlfriend_, and Rachel wanted nothing more than to be the most supportive girlfriend she could be.

Quinn folded her arms across her middle as Rachel stroked her cheek back and forth fondly. "If you honestly desire to come out to your parents, then you have my full support, Quinn; you know that. Likewise, if you're not ready, then you also have my support," she told her. "Either way, I'll be here for you. And I love you just the same no matter what you choose."

"That's weird," Quinn admitted after a moment.

"What's weird?" Rachel asked.

"I mean, you _want_ me to come out, don't you?" Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "And you'll be disappointed if I don't." Quinn looked over at her. "So, you can't say that you'll support me if I don't tell them if you won't, really."

The statement was locked so air tight that Rachel found that she had little wiggle room, as how it almost always was with Quinn. But Rachel liked a challenge, and thus, here she was. "I'll admit that mere days ago I wanted you to come out to your parents. But that was before I kind of got a taste of what it was like to actually _do_ what I had wanted you to do and realize how difficult it is," she replied a little sheepishly. "So, I can say that I'll support you, because I truly will. I now know how difficult it is to come out to people who aren't supportive and if you wish to not let them know, then I fully support that and _love_ you."

Quinn's lips balled up as she mulled over the statement and Rachel cracked a small smile at how quirky and adorable she tended to look sometimes, like right now. "I think she knows," Quinn finally said after a moment.

She wanted desperately to wrap her arms around Quinn as a show of solidarity to prove that she wasn't in this alone. But they were already in semi-compromising position and Rachel didn't want to risk looking any more suspicious to anyone who may or may not be there. The auditorium wasn't like the bathroom stall; there were no locks on doors and anyone could pass by at any point if they wanted.

Instead, she settled for a warm smile as her thumb stroked across Quinn's cheekbone. "I think she may," Rachel agreed.


	28. Chapter 28

**Title: **What Doors May Open

**Pairing: **Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

**Summary: **AU. Rachel comes out as gay after dumping Finn. People slowly start to find out and, when Head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray finds out, Rachel knows her life will never be the same again.

**A/N: **Last chapter! I want to thank you all for your reviews; you've all been too kind, and I've appreciated all of your words. It's been fun Faberry fandom! Stay awesome!

* * *

><p>Rachel knew something was wrong when Quinn didn't respond to her customary goodnight text last night. Sure, it was a <em>new<em> custom and Quinn could have simply forgotten, but Rachel had a sixth sense about these things. And her sixth sense was telling her that something was wrong.

Her head was practically out of the car window as Hiram pulled into the school parking lot. She saw dots of letterman jackets in a sea of students. But none of them were Quinn.

And it only made Rachel worry more.

"Do you see her, sweetheart?" Hiram asked. He pulled into a parking spot in front of the school, and Rachel rolled her window up with a sigh.

"No. Do you think she told them, dad?"

Hiram's eyebrows furrowed as he looked around them. "I don't know, honey. But would her parents really cut her off from civilization just because she's gay?"

"I wouldn't put anything past her parents," Rachel mumbled. She looked around for Quinn again and unbuckled her seatbelt when she didn't see her. "I should probably go see if she's inside." She reached for the door handle when she felt Hiram's hand wrap around her arm. Morosely, she turned back to him.

"Hey," he said softly. "Stop assuming the worst. For all you know she could be sick right now and out of school or something. She _did_ visit you when you were ill, after all."

By nature Rachel was the type of person who always assumed and prepared for the worst. It had never occurred to her that Quinn really could just be sick and in bed. But a niggling thought in the back of her head was telling her otherwise. Still, she smiled at Hiram in thanks. "Hopefully that's all it is." Her brow furrowed. "Not hopefully that she's sick, or anything—just—"

"I get it," Hiram said with an amused smile. "Now go to school and stop worrying."

Rachel leaned over in her seat to give Hiram a warm hug. "Thank you, dad." She pulled back and got out of the car, waving at him once more before walking into the school. Once inside her shoulders drooped with anxiety she didn't want to show her father. Rachel was almost positive Quinn had told her parents about them, or at the very least, about her sexuality. Hiram didn't see the look of determination laced with fright in Quinn's eyes yesterday like Rachel had. It was determination that would not be deterred, and a surge of dread trickled down Rachel's spine at the thought of Quinn being in any kind of trouble.

Her eyes scanned the hallways diligently for her girlfriend as she walked toward her locker. She didn't really expect to see Quinn and could only sigh when she made it to her locker without having run into her. Worn penny loafers scuffed to a halt at her locker as she heaved a heavy breath.

She caught sight of Cheerio uniforms out of her peripheral as she was spinning her combination into her locker and looked down the hallway towards the familiar colors. Her breath hitched unpleasantly at the sight.

Brittany and Santana were strolling down the hallway. _Just_ Brittany and Santana.

She slammed her locker shut and hurried toward them. "Excuse me," Rachel greeted, stepping into their paths. "Hi—I couldn't help but notice that Quinn isn't with you. Have either of you seen her?"

Brittany placed a finger under her chin as she began to think the question over. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as if a light bulb had gone off in her head. "I totally saw her yesterday." Her face creased into a frown. "You were there. Do you have anesthesia or something?"

"Amnesia," Santana gently corrected with a small smile in Brittany's direction.

"I—well, no, I don't, but I was referring to today, Brittany," Rachel clarified, feeling her patience fray.

"We haven't seen her," Santana continued.

Her shoulders drooped instantly. "Oh," she murmured, gaze lowering as her mind plummeted to the worst case scenario possible.

Santana smirked, completely oblivious as she walked past with Brittany. "Suffering from withdrawals already?"

If only she knew.

* * *

><p>Rachel stared blankly at the dry erase board as she wrote down notes on the nervous system. She had noticed that since she and Quinn had started dating her concentration in all of her subjects had substantially been lacking.<p>

It was hard to concentrate on anything when she worried about her girlfriend, worried about whether or not Quinn was crying buckets at her house all alone. Rachel had met Quinn's parents firsthand and was more inclined to call them monsters than anything else. Guilt began to pool in her stomach as she was reminded of the time she had left Quinn at home all alone all weekend after she had come out to Quinn's parents. Quinn had said she had spent the entire weekend in her own room, and Rachel's heart ached at the thought of Quinn doing the exact same thing right now.

All pretenses lost, she fished out her phone from her school bag and began texting Quinn.

_**Good morning, Quinn. :) I couldn't help but notice that you aren't in school today and wanted to inquire your whereabouts?**_

Thumbnail firmly between her teeth and an uncomfortable block of lead settling in her stomach, she scrolled through her contacts for the only person who could calm her down right now.

_**Finn, I don't really have time to explain but Quinn isn't in school today and I'm nervous. Do you think she's okay?**_

It was an admittedly vague text, but Rachel had long ago learned that Quinn was a private person and didn't like her personal life divulged to anyone under any circumstances.

So, when Finn sent back that he hadn't seen her all day either and asked the logical question of just _why wouldn't Quinn be okay_, Rachel didn't respond.

Just like Quinn didn't respond to her own message.

* * *

><p>Lunch was overly crowded today as it was every Friday when pizza was being served. Rachel opted out of standing in line with Kurt and sat momentarily alone at their usual table. Her hand brushed a wad of gum underneath the table as she drew it up to nervously tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and she nearly hyperventilated. "Gross," she whined.<p>

Kurt dropped his tray on the table and sat down. "Seen her yet?"

She shook her head morosely. "Kurt, I'm worried."

"Maybe it's nothing," he supplied. "After all, she could just be sick."

"Or she could be locked away in her room sobbing because she came out to her parents and they just rejected her," she hissed.

He shot her a dry look. "It's not safe to live in your own head."

Rachel sighed. "Kurt, I'm serious. I'm really worried about her."

"Then text her."

"I _did_, and she didn't respond."

At that, Kurt lifted his head up and really looked at her. "You have _got_ to calm down before you give yourself a heart attack."

Easier said than done, and Rachel grumbled just as much as she fished her sandwich out of her lunch bag. She couldn't calm down and probably wouldn't until she knew once and for all that Quinn was okay.

Her gaze shot up to Santana who was just leaving the line. She stumbled out of her seat without thought. "I'm going to go see if she's heard anything from Quinn."

"Good luck!" Kurt called unhelpfully from over his shoulder.

Rachel quickly sidestepped a girl with hair that nearly whipped in her face as she walked across the cafeteria. Dread prickled the back of her neck as she made it to the long table in the back of the cafeteria. She caught Puck's gaze and quickly averted her eyes as he winked at her. Catty cheerleaders sneered at her, and she took the long way to walk around them as she finally made it to Santana.

She looked around her then lowered herself toward Santana to keep everyone out of their conversation. "Pardon me, Santana, but I was wondering if you've seen Quinn since the last time I've spoken with you."

"Stalker!" she heard some girl say.

"Seriously, why has she been riding Quinn's jock lately?" another girl crudely asked to Rachel's utter mortification.

"Jealous?" was all Santana prompted with a taunting smirk.

No one else spoke a word, and Rachel didn't dare turn around to see the looks on their faces.

With that, Santana turned back to Rachel. "Still haven't seen her, Berry. Guess she's not here today."

She shrugged as if it was no big deal, and Rachel could feel her shoulders grow heavier with trepidation.

* * *

><p>"Alright, guys, let's begin," Mr. Schuester declared.<p>

"W-wait, Mr. Schuester," Rachel stood up to say. Everyone's gaze zeroed in on her, and she could feel the back of her neck grow hot under their scrutiny. "I mean, we should wait for Quinn, right? I mean, she could be here any minute, and I think ten minutes is respectfully customary." She cut her rambling short in embarrassment. She didn't really know why she was wasting precious glee club time when it was clear Quinn wasn't at school today, but a part of her didn't want to believe it.

"Quinn's not coming," Santana said from the back row. Rachel turned to face her. "She's at the nurse."

Rachel's jaw dropped in outrage and surprise. "How long as she been here!" she demanded. "And you failed to inform me, Santana!"

"Don't get your Sears size eight granny panties in a twist, Berry," Santana drawled lazily. "She came after lunch. I saw her in the hallways but when I called her, she kept walking away." She sucked her teeth. "The bitch."

"That's enough, Santana," Mr. Schuester stated authoritatively. "Now that we know that Quinn is here and in the nurse's office and, therefore, won't be joining, let's continue."

"I'm sorry, but I can't," Rachel whispered, turning back around to face Mr. Schuester with inner turmoil shining in her eyes. She loved glee club with all her heart, but, "I have to check on her."

"Since when are you friends with Quinn?" Mike couldn't help but ask from the second row.

"She doesn't have to answer to you, _Michael_," Santana spat.

Despite the situation, Rachel could feel her chest flutter at the way Santana defended her so fiercely. Perhaps they really were friends, after all.

"Since recent," Rachel declared succinctly. "She and I have a very…deep and genuine friendship that I value and thus, I consider it my duty to check on her and make sure she's okay. Mr. Schuester, I'll return shortly."

Impatient, Rachel stormed out of the choir room without even receiving permission to leave.

* * *

><p>The door was ajar and Rachel pushed on it gently, knocking on it as she stepped inside. She saw Mrs. Smith sitting at a desk and smiled. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Smith," Rachel greeted.<p>

Mrs. Smith stood and stepped around the desk with a large smile on her face. "Well, if it isn't my favorite student. No slushie related traumas today, I see."

She ducked her head, smile turning sheepish. "Not today, no." She looked up. "In fact I have not been slushied for quite some time now."

"I haven't seen you around recently," Mrs. Smith conceded. "If I remember correctly, the last time you came here was when you were with your boyfriend because he stepped on her toes." Rachel cringed inside as Mrs. Smith chortled happily. "He never did seem like the best dancer. Such an overgrown child that boy is. But he's a sweetheart. How are you guys?"

"He and I actually aren't together anymore," Rachel drawled out, trying to soften the blow to the woman who had become hers and Finn's biggest advocate during their relationship. "But we're the best of friends." She wrung her hands together, peering past the nurse toward the rooms in the back of the office. "By any chance, Mrs. Smith, would you happen to have a girl by the name of Quinn Fabray here?" she continued, wanting to get to the point.

"The cheerleader, right?" Mrs. Smith asked with a thoughtful frown as Rachel nodded eagerly. "Poor thing's been in here all day. She your friend?"

"A very dear friend," Rachel said somberly. She took a step forward. "Can I see her, please?"

Mrs. Smith hesitated. "She made it explicitly clear that she didn't want visitors today."

Rachel took a step closer, her eyes deep in sincerity as she begged the nurse to understand. "I understand that, but Mrs. Smith, Quinn doesn't _really_ like to be alone," she whispered. "She's probably waiting on me as we speak. And she's a very near and dear friend of mine, and I'd really like to make sure she's alright."

Mrs. Smith's eyes softened as she regarded her favorite student. "You always did have a big heart, Rachel."

Rachel beamed proudly back at the older woman. "May I?"

Mrs. Smith's lips twisted into a playful smile. "Tell you what: I skipped my lunch break today to keep an eye on her. So, I'll be eating in the teacher's lounge." With that, she turned back to her desk and grabbed her lunch bag, flashing another smile at Rachel as she walked away. "I never saw you," she finished as she walked out of the door.

It shut with a finality that made Rachel's heart flutter as she turned back toward the rooms, one of which Quinn would be in. Her feet carried her forward before she even made up her mind to make a move and she was walking toward the rooms, looking in each of them for a pretty blonde angel who stole her heart long ago.

She found Quinn in the very last room on the left, hunched over on the side of the bed. Relief flooded through Rachel at the sight of her, and she knocked on the door softly as she walked inside.

Quinn tensed, spine straightening as she looked toward the door then turned away. "What are you doing here?" she croaked out in a thick voice. Beside her, she was fumbling for a Kleenex that she mashed against her face as Rachel walked closer.

She took a steadying breath, not knowing how to handle this new side of Quinn. She looked slightly disheveled by Quinn Fabray's standards, which meant not much, but noticeable to people who knew her. Vibrant curls had fallen out of her ponytail as it hung lifeless from her head; her posture was uncharacteristically droopy and unsure as she avoided Rachel's gaze.

"I came to visit you," Rachel murmured as she came to a stop in front of Quinn. "I was worried when you didn't respond to my text last night." Quinn still wasn't looking at her, wiping desperately at her eyes as if Rachel would magically forget that she had been crying, as if she would forget how red and puffy Quinn's eyes were and how flushed with frustration her face was. Rachel reached out to lightly place her hand on Quinn's shoulder and Quinn stopped moving all together, sucking in a large breath and holding it.

Neither one of them said a word for a long moment as Rachel tried to allow Quinn to save face, though nothing about this situation would make Rachel think less of her. Quite the opposite if what she was already thinking was true. Quinn sniffled, and a soft, sympathetic sound gurgled from Rachel's throat as she slid her hand over to cup the side of Quinn's neck. "Did you tell them?" Rachel finally asked.

Quinn's whole body seemed to shake as she nodded her head minutely.

"Oh, Quinn," Rachel murmured. She smoothed down the back of her skirt and moved towards the bed to sit beside Quinn. Her hand darted out and clasped Quinn's for support. When Quinn's wide, red rimmed eyes shot to the door, Rachel quickly calmed her. "The nurse went out for lunch. She won't be back for a while and I'll hear her when she does come back."

Hazel eyes diligently remained on the door for a moment longer before they dropped down to where Rachel was intertwining their fingers. A shuddery breath was pushed past her lips as she licked them for moisture.

Rachel flicked her hair over her shoulder to better see Quinn as she turned to her. "How did it go?" she asked tentatively.

Quinn shrugged a shoulder, gasping in a breath. "It wasn't…terrible, considering my family and what I had to tell them." She roughly rubbed at her eye once more, and Rachel reached out to gently grasp her hand and pull it away to wipe away the lone tear streaking down her face. Quinn huffed out a humorless laugh. "I don't even know _why_ I'm such a blubbering mess right now," she grumbled.

"It's emotional," Rachel supplied. "I mean, even _I_ cried when I came out and my fathers already knew I was gay, so really there was no reason for tears other than it felt good yet weird to finally get it off my chest."

She watched Quinn's eyes squeeze shut, a tear falling through, and Rachel leaned over to kiss her cheek, wiping the tear away. "It'll be okay," she whispered. She gave Quinn's hand a squeeze and flashed a reassuring smile when watery hazel eyes reopened to stare at her. "What did they say?"

Quinn dragged her tongue along her lower lip, jabbing the heel of her palm in her eye. "I have to go to church more," she whispered, dropping her hand into her lap. "I can't miss _any_ Bible studies. And I need to pray. Every day, multiple times a day—I'll never have time for you."

"I'm not going anywhere," Rachel assured with a stern frown on her face. "I don't care how full your schedule is. We'll work around it."

Quinn's head lowered and she stared down at the veins raised in Rachel's hand where she was tightly gripping her own. Her chin trembled as she bit down on her lower lip. "Do you promise?"

"I promise," Rachel replied without hesitation.

"You won't be able to come over to my house," Quinn rasped, voice sounding even more nasally and heavy with sorrow. "They won't let you over."

Rachel sucked in quick breath, trying to find remnants of Quinn's strength that seemed to be stripped away and take it as her own, though fully being rejected by Quinn's parents as if she were a leper left her feeling like someone had knocked the wind out of her. "Then you can just come over mine." Her breath seemed to wheeze out of her as she continued. "Whenever you want, remember when I told you that?"

Quinn nodded a little. "Yeah."

"And I-I mean, this isn't so bad, right?" Rachel asked. "All things considered?" She had been waiting for the moment when Quinn would explicitly state that they couldn't be together anymore, but that didn't seem to be forthcoming, and for now it was something she was desperately clinging to.

Quinn drew her lips into her mouth and released them with a pop, before a barely there smile tugged her lips upwards a fraction, and Rachel's heart thumped loudly, painfully against her chest in hope that maybe this wasn't so bad. "I guess. When I told them…my mother wasn't surprised but still disappointed, of course." Quinn shook her head. "My father was quiet for a long time, but I knew he had a lot to say. He finally told me that all I was allowed to do was homework, cheering, glee club, and Bible study." Her lips quirked with sad amusement that both surprised and confused Rachel. "Then he said, 'At least you're not pregnant.'"

Rachel's expression became bemused as she said, "Well, your parents should think of it this way: as long as you date girls they'll never have to worry about unplanned teenage pregnancies."

"Thank goodness," Quinn drawled with an eye roll that Rachel had never been so happy to see. "I mean, he—I get it, what he was saying. Pregnancies...you can see them, you know? They're an embarrassment that everyone will eventually see. But being gay..." A long breath trembled out of her. "You can't _see_ that, you know?" Rachel watched as Quinn turned away, staring unseeingly at the wall. "It's on the inside," she whispered. "It's on..._my_ inside. And now they know that. But only they will know that."

Her mood grew somber, and Rachel watched in fascination as Quinn murmured her stream of consciousness. It was the only confirmation that Rachel was going to get of Quinn fully coming out as gay to her parents and she wasn't going to push for more.

"I just—" Rachel cut herself off as her gaze flicked over Quinn. She was so in awe of the girl who months ago wouldn't even give her the time of day and was now Rachel's girlfriend and in the nurse's office crying because she had come out to her parents. "I just wanted to say that I love you. And I am so very proud of you, Quinn."

"I don't feel like I've done anything to be proud of," Quinn admitted.

"You have," Rachel insisted, turning more to look directly at her. "You are tremendously brave and you've come such a long way. You're an inspiration, Quinn."

Quinn stared at her for a long moment. Then her head dipped, and she lightly bumped her forehead with Rachel's without a sound save for a giant sigh that loosened the tense muscles in her shoulders. "I don't inspire people," Quinn whispered.

"You inspire _me_," Rachel said earnestly. "I'd love to sing a song in glee club next week. Dedicated to you, of course."

Quinn groaned. "Please not _I'm Coming Out_ or anything else painfully obvious."

Despite the situation, Rachel giggled quietly and shook her head. "_See You Soon_."

"Coldplay," Quinn mumbled. "Didn't know you had good taste in music, Berry."

Rachel scoffed, but wasn't cross enough to pull away. "I'll have you know that I have _excellent_ taste in music, Quinn Fabray."

"Excellent, hmm?"

"The best," Rachel declared succinctly.

Their banter was cut short when the distinct sound of the door opening in the other room wafted to their ears. Quinn straightened to pull away, giving Rachel's hand a squeeze before stealing her own hand back. "I must look a mess," she mumbled as she slid from the bed and walked towards the sink in the corner of the room.

Rachel disagreed, but watched in silence as Quinn redid her ponytail while the nurse walked into the room. "Are you feeling any better, Quinn?"

With a sigh, Quinn nodded. "Thank you."

Mrs. Smith turned to Rachel with a smile. "You still have a way with words, I see."

Rachel's head dipped with a shy smile at the tease about her verbosity. She hopped off the bed and clasped her hands together in front of her. "Would you like to go to glee club, Quinn?"

Quinn ran a damp paper towel over her face to wash away dried tears. Her head lolled to the side to face Rachel. "I hadn't planned on it."

Rachel's tongue dragged over her lower lip as she walked closer. "I sometimes find that expressing myself in glee club helps me let loose of some of the tension that just builds inside of me."

Hazel eyes hardened. "Can you stop talking, please?"

Rachel recoiled in surprise at the level of coldness that had seeped into Quinn's voice. "O-okay…" Her throat felt constricted as she took a deep breath, and she cleared it, averting her gaze from Quinn's toward the nurse who was still here witnessing what had quickly turned into an awkward moment. What had she done wrong? "Maybe I should go."

She felt her chest tighten and scurried out of the room under the heavy gazes of Quinn and Mrs. Smith. Her arms folded tightly across her chest and hurried down the hallway as fast as she dared within the school rules of no running in the hallway.

"Wait!"

The thick sound of Quinn's voice wrapped around Rachel and stopped her in her tracks. She stood motionless with her arms wrapping tighter around her middle in defense.

The rapid pitter-patter of footsteps reached her ears as Quinn neared her, and Rachel turned to where she knew Quinn would come from her left. All that could be heard was Quinn's slightly labored breathing as Rachel bit her lip in apprehension.

"I didn't mean to yell," Quinn sighed after a moment.

"I just want to help," Rachel whimpered, looking up at her. "And now you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you," Quinn told her. "I just—" She rubbed her lips together in frustration. "I just don't want to talk about _that_," she whispered lowly with emphasis, "or allude to it when other people are around. Okay?"

Rachel nodded hurriedly. "I know. And I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

"I know you didn't mean it. You really were trying to help." Her eyes pinched as she choppily muttered with reluctance, "I was being an ass. And I'm sorry."

She realized right away, though it was hardly a new discovery, that she didn't like fighting with Quinn, especially now that they were together. It caused an uncomfortable churn in her stomach. But it lifted the second she saw the remorseful way Quinn looked at her, eyebrows slanting and dipping in their own version of apology. Quinn didn't just apologize with words, it was a bodily effort to convey what she sometimes had little words to say.

Quinn puffed out an annoyed breath. "And this is so not the situation I wanted to find myself in when I asked if I could come to your house after school."

Rachel's gaze shot up at the admission, eyes widening in excitement. "You want to come over after school, like, right after?"

Quinn nodded. "I would—I could drive you home…if you want."

If she _wants_? Did Quinn not know her by now?

"I would be more than happy to accompany you to my house in your car," Rachel replied eagerly.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Say it like a normal person, Rachel."

"I _am_ a normal person."

"By whose standards?"

Her eyes narrowed as excitement caused butterflies to release in her stomach. A flirty retort was on the tip of her tongue, but it would have to wait until they were at her house.

Quinn flicked up a victorious eyebrow with a smirk playing on her lips, and no one would have known that just twenty minutes ago she was had been crying her eyes out. She spun on her heel, hands clasped behind her as she walked away. "Let's go to glee club," she stated as if it was her idea all along.

Her hips had an exaggerated sway to them that had Rachel biting her lip as she trailed behind, thinking that maybe they were going to be okay, _more_ than.

It kind of astounded her, how sturdy and unrelenting Quinn was.

* * *

><p>Dark eyes darted to the creaking doorway as Quinn walked out of the bathroom, having changed clothes. There was a sense of normalcy in the skin tight <em>high<em> thigh high shorts and tight tank top she wore. And as well as arousing Rachel it also served as a balm to the heightened state of anxiety the two of them had been facing lately ever since Rachel had met Quinn's parents.

"Eyes up here, Berry."

Obeying with a playful grin, Rachel looked up just as Quinn stepped up to her, her modest chest pushing teasingly into Rachel's face.

Rachel couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow because for someone who lived by their vow of celibacy Quinn sure did love to tempt her, which was ultimately tempting the both of them because Rachel had noticed lately that Quinn was starting to allow them to go further once things got started.

She heard Quinn clear her throat and when she focused again, Quinn was blushing, blonde curls framing her face and tumbling down her shoulders. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

Rachel just reached out and grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers and letting them hang limply. "Would you like to watch a movie, or something?"

Quinn nodded with a head tilt, eyes sparkling as she slowly murmured, "…Or something."

And Rachel knew they would be okay. They had their work cut out for them, but as long as they could revert back to square one and work their way up from there when things got rough she knew they would be okay.

They started where they began in an entirely new way and new place as Quinn climbed onto the bed, straddled Rachel and sunk to her hands and knees above her.

"I bought _Up_," Rachel whispered as Quinn leaned down, nuzzling their noses together.

A breathy chuckle wafted through Rachel, and made her stir. Quinn's eyes clenched shut, nose crinkling as she smiled. "You're so—"

"What am I?" Rachel dared. Whenever they got to this place and Quinn had things to say, she very rarely finished her thought.

"You're wonderful," Quinn mumbled against her lips, and Rachel smiled.

Admirable, amazing, awesome, _dynamite_, enjoyable—_good. _Synonyms were awesome.

She was _wonderful_ in Quinn's eyes.

And she couldn't have been happier.

So, everything else could wait until Monday.


End file.
